PUT  DOWN THF^ 


THE  CHA^JLIN  UP  A  TBKBL 


BOW  PRIVATE  GEO.  W.  PECK 

PUT   DOWN 

THE  REBELLION 


FUNNY  EXPERIENCES  OF  A  RAW  RECRUIT 


["War  Papers" — h  la  Century  Magazine,  from  the  standpoint  of  a 
private  soldier,  who  was  afraid  of  his  shadow,  and  who  didn't 
want  to  fight  unless  lie  hjji>3  .£<?,]»  ; 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

'PECK 'SPUN,"  "PECK'S  SUNSHINE,"  "PECK'S  BAD  BOY  AND  HIS  PA, '» 
"PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK,"  AND  LOTS  OF  SUCH  STUFF 

^-      £    &,         ( 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  TRUE  WILLIAMS 

CHICAGO 

THOMPSON  &  THOMAF 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1887,  BY 
GEORGE  W.  PECK 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY 

w.  p.  CONK:E;Y  COMPANY 

..RESERVED 


HOW  PRIVATE  GKO.   W.   PECK  PUT 
DOWN  THE  REBELLION 


DEDICATION. 


TO  THE  "  BOYS  IN  BLUE"  AND  THE  " BOYS  IN  feRAY," 

Who  got  real  spunky  at  each  other,  some  years  ago,  while 
playing  in  their  adjoining  door-yards,  threw  tomato  cans 
and  dead  cats  back  and  forth,  called  each  other  cnmes, 
pulled  hair,  and  snubbed  noses  until  they  got  into  real, 
actual  war,  in  which  such  bravery  was  shown  on  both 
sides,  as  the  world  had  never  seen  before,  and  who  have 
decided  to  be  neighbors  and  friends  again,  ready  to  protect 
and  defend  each  other  against  all  the  world;  these  reminis 
cences  of  the  ridiculous  part  taken  in  the  struggle,  by  a 
raw  recruit,  who  was  too  scared  to  fight  and  too  frightened 
to  run,  are  most  respectfully  dedicated,  with  the  earnest 
hope  that  no  occasion  may  ever  again  arise  in  which  it 
shall  seem  necessary  for  one  American  citizen  to  seek  to 
shed  the  gore  of  another  American  citizen. 

GEORGE  W.  PECK. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  1 

The  War  Literature  of  the  "Century"  Is  Very  Confusing— I  Am 
Resolved  to  Tell  the  True  Story  of  the  War  — How  and  Why  I 
Became  a  Raw  Recruit  — My  Quarters  —  My  Horse  —  My  First 
Ride 11 

CHAPTER  II. 

I  Am  Rudely  Awakened  from  Dreams  of  Home — I  Go  on  Picket  — 
The  Foe  Advances— A  Desperate  Conflict  — The  Union-Confed 
erate  Breakfast  on  the  Alabama  Race-track — A  Friendly  Part 
ing 21 

CHAPTER  III. 

I  Describe  a  Deadly  Encounter  —  Am  Congratulated  as  a  Warrior 
with  a  Big  "  W"—  The  Chaplain  Gives  Good  Advice  — I  Attend 
Surgeon's  Call— Castor  Oil  out  of  a  Dirty  Bottle  — Back  to  the 
Chaplain's  Tent— I  Am  Wounded  in  the  -Canteen 35 

CHAPTER  IV. 

I  Yearn  for  a  Furlough — I  Interview  the  General — I  Am  Detailed 
to  Carry  a  Rail  —  I  Make  a  Horse-trade  with  the  Chaplain — I 
Am  Put  in  Charge  of  a  Funeral , 4ft 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Funeral  of  the  Colored  Cook  —  I  Plead  for  a  Larger  Procession 
—  The  Funeral  Oration  — The  Funeral  Disturbed— -I  Am  Ar 
rested  —  My  Fortunate  Escape 60 


VI         ,  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VL 

I  Capture  "  Jeff "—  I  Get  Back  at  the  Chaplain  — The  Chaplain  is 
Arrested  — Off  on  a  Raid  — I  Meet  the  Relatives  of  the 
Dead  Confederate  —  My  Powers  of  Lying  are  Brought  into 
Play.  73 

CHAPTER  VH. 

"Boots  and  Saddles"— "I  Am  the  Colonel's  Orderly "—  Riding 
Fifty  Miles  on  an  Empty  Stomach  —  The  Chaplain  Appears  —  I 
Am  Wounded  by  a  Locomotive  and  a  Piece  of  Coal  —  I  Nearly 
KillanOldMan 87 

CHAPTER  VHI. 

Three  Days  Without  Food!  — The  Value  of  Hard  Tack— A  Silver 
Watch  for  a  Pint  of  Meal  — I  Steal  Corn  From  a  Hungry  Mule 
—  The  Delirium  of  Hunger  —  I  Dine  on  Mule  — I  Capture  a 
Rebel  Ram 99 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Bacon  and  Hard-Tack — In  Danger  of  Ague  —  In  Search  of  Whisky 
and  Quinine — I  am  Appointed  Corporal  —  I  Make  a  Speech — I 
Am  a  Leader  of  Ten  Picked  Men— I  Am  Willing  to  Resign. .  114 

CHAPTER  X. 

Yearnings  for  Military  Fame— What  I  Want  Is  a  Chance— I  feel  I 
Could  Crush  the  Rebellion— My  Chance  Arrives— I  Am 
Crushed— The  Rebellion  Remains  Pretty  Well 128 

CHAPTER  XL 

I  Am  Detailed  to  Build  a  Bridge— It  Was  a  Good  Bridge,  But  OTer 
the  Wrong  Stream— The  General  Appears— I  Am  Crushed,  in 
Fact  Pulverized  I — I  Am  Attacked  With  Rheumatism , .  .141 


CONTENTS.  V 

CHAPTER  XII. 

I  Am  Instructed  to  Capture  and  Search  a  Female  Smuggler —I  Pro- 
test  in  Vain— The  Terrible  Ordeal  —  Beauty  Behind  the  Pulpit 
—Pills,  Plaisters,  Quinine— The  Pathetic  Letter— We  Meet 
Under  Happier  Stars 153 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Female  Smuggler  Episode  Makes  Me  Famous— I  Am  Sent 
Forth  in  Women's  Clothes— My  Interview  With  the  Bad  Cor 
poral—A  Fist  Fight— The  Rebellion  Is  Put  Down  Once  More 
—I  Reveal  My  Identity ; .  168 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Military  Attire— My  Suit  of  Government  Clothes— The  Memory  of 
Them  Saddens  Me  Still— The  Dreadful  March— The  Adjutant 
Appoints  Me  to  Make  Out  a  Monthly  Report— The  Report  is  an 
Astonishing  One 178 

CHAPTER  XV. 

My  Experience  as  a  Sick  Man— Jim  Thinks  I  Have  Yellow  Fever  ^ 
What  I  Suffered— "A  Rebel  Angel"— I  Am  Sent  to  the  Hos 
pital ; 188 

CHAPTER  XVL 

My  Varied  Experience  in  the  Hospital— The  Doctor  Seems  Sure  of 
My  Death— I  Suggest  the  Postponement  of  My  Funeral— I  Get 
Very  Sick  of  Gruel— I  Go  Back  to  My  Regiment 199 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Thanksgiving  Dinner  with  the  "Rebel  Angel"— She  Gives  Me  a 
World  of  Good  Advice— Can  an  Officer  Be  Detailed  «to  Go  and 
Shovel  Dirt?— My  First  Day  as  a  Commissioned  Officer 210 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

My  Sickness  and  Hospital  Experiences  Have  Spoiled  Me  for  a  Sol 
dier—I  Am  Full  of  Charity  and  Hope  the  War  Will  Cease —We 
Have  a  Grand  Attack— The  Battle  Lasted  Ten  Minutes— The 
"Rebel  Angel's"  Brother  Is  Captured 219 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

I  Am  Detailed  to  Drive  a  Six-mule  Team — I  Am  Covered  with  Red 
Mud  —  I  Am  Sent  on  an  Expedition  of  Cold-blooded  Murder — I 
Make  a  Dozen  ex-Confederate  Soldiers  Happy  by  Setting  Them 
up  in  Business , 229 

CHAPTER  XX. 

I  Demonstrate  that  Gambling  does  not  pay  —  I  Cause  a  General 
Stampede  —  Christmas  in  the  Pine  Woods  of  Alabama  —  Mill 
ions  of  Dollars,  but  no  Christmas  Dinner 239 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

I  Go  Out  on  a  Scouting  Expedition  —  My  Horse  Dies  of  Poison— 
I  Turn  Horse-Thief —I  Capture  a  Church,  Congregation  and 
Minister,  but  I  Spare  the  Communion  Wine 249 

CHAPTER  XXH. 

The  Spotted  Horse  —  His  Shameful  Behavior  at  a  Funeral  —  I  was 
Tempted  to  Have  my  Horse  Shot— But  I  Traded  Him  to  the 
Chaplain. 261 

CHAPTER  XXHI. 

Tells  How  the  Chaplain  was  Paralyzed  by  the  Spotted  Circus- 
Horse —  I  am  Court-Martialed  —  I  Plead  My  Own  Case  and 
am  Acquitted 269 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  XXTV. 

Mingled  Reminiscences— I  Relate  a  Mississippi  River  Steamboat 
Experience 278 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Our  Party  of  Recruits  Own  the  Earth— We  Live  High,  Give  a 
Ball,  and  Go  to  the  Guard-House — And  are  Arrested  by  Col 
ored  Troops 289 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

I  Strike  another  Soft  Snap,  which  is  Harder  than  Any  Snap  Here^ 
tofore  —  I  Begin  taking  Music  Lessons,  and  Fill  Up  a  Con 
federate  Prisoner  with  Yankee  Food 299 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A.  Short  Story  about  a  Pair  of  Boots,  Showing  the  Monumental 
Gall  of  Their  Owner. . .  .  .308 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE. 

FRONTISPIECE The  Chaplain  up  a  Tree. 

Mounting  my  Arab  Steed  from  the  Top  of  a  Fence  Rail 16 

On  Went  the  Two  Night  Riders 28 

"  Great  Caesar's  Ghost !  How  it  did  Taste  " 41 

"I  Never  Knew  How  I  Got  Out  of  the  General's  Tent" 50 

I  Pronounce  a  Solemn  Funeral  Oration 65 

"  You  are  a  Darling  Good  Man,"  said  the  Little  Girl 86 

I  am  Wounded  by  a  Locomotive  and  a  Piece  of  Coal 95 

We  Went  into  Camp  That  Way 112 

A  Pretty  Position  for    a    Man    just   Promoted  to  the  Proud 

Position  of  Corporal 121 

"  Jim,  Excuse  Me,  but  What  Kind  of  a  Thing  is  That  ?"....  146 
Two  Stockings  and  a  Pair  of  Dainty  Shoes  came  Over  the  Pulpit  163 
He  Fell  to  the  Ground  and  Gave  a  Yell  you  Could  have  Heard 

a  Mile 1 74 

The  "Rebel  Angel"  Gives  the  Doctor  a  Piece  of  Her  Mind..  197 

I  Forbid  you  Touching  that  Jkare 258 

I  Jerked  him  Down  Off'u  There 265 


HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION; 

OB 

THE  FUNNY  EXPERIENCES  OF  A  RAW  RECRUIT. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  WAR  LITERATURE  OP  THE  "CENTURY"  is  VERT  CONFUSING 
— I  AM  RESOLVED  TO  TELL  THE  TRUE  STORY  OP  THE  WAR — 
How  AND  WHY  I  BECAME  A  RAW  RECRUIT — MY  QUARTERS 
— MY  HORSE — MY  FIRST  RIDE. 

For  the  last  year  or  more  I  have  been  reading  the  arti 
cles  in  the  Century  magazine,  written  by  generals  and 
things  who  served  on  both  the  Union  and  Confederate 
sides,  and  have*  been  struck  by  the  number  of  e '  decisive 
battles  "  that  were  fought,  and  the  great  number  of  generals 
who  fought  them  and  saved  the  country.  It  seems  that 
each  general  on  the  Union  side,  who  fought  a  battle,  and 
writes  an  article  for  the  aforesaid  magazine,  admits  that 
his  battle  was  the  one  which  did  the  business.  On  the 
Confederate  side,  the  generals  who  write  articles  invariably 
demonstrate  that  they  everlastingly  whipped  their  oppo 
nents,  and  drove  them  off  in  disorder.  To  read  those  arti 
cles  it  seems  strange  that  the  Union  generals  who  won  so 
many  decisive  battles,  should  not  have  ended  the  war 

11 


12  FOW   PEIVATE   GEORGE  TV.  PECK 


much  sooner  than  they  did,  and  to  read  the  accounts  of 
battles  won  by  the  Confederates,  and  the  demoralization 
that  ensued  in  the  ranks  of  their  opponents,  It  seems  mar 
vellous  that  the  Union  army  was  victorious.  Any  man  who 
has  followed  these  generals  of  both  sides,  in  the  pages  of 
that  magazine,  must  conclude  that  the  war  was  a  draw 
game,  and  that  both  sides  were  whipped.  Thus  far  no 
general  has  lost  a  battle  on  either  side,  and  all  of  them 
tacitly  admit  that  the  whole  thing  depended  on  them, 
and  that  other  commanders  were  mere  ciphers.  This  is  a 
kind  of  history  that  is  going  to  mix  up  generations  yet  un 
born  in  the  most  hopeless  manner. 

It  has  seemed  to  me  as  though  the  people  of  this  coun 
try  had  got  so  mixed  up  about  the  matter  that  it  was 
the  duty  of  some  private  soldier  to  write  a  description  of 
the  decisive  battle  of  the  war,  and  as  I  was  the  private  sol 
dier  who  fought  that  battle  on  the  Union  side,  against 
fearful  odds,  viz:  against  a  Confederate  soldier  who 
was  braver  than  I  was,  a  better  horseback  rider,  and  a 
better  poker  player,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  tell  about  it.  I 
have  already  mentioned  it  to  a  few  veterans,  and  they  have 
advised  me  to  write  an  article  for  the  Century,  but  I  have 
felt  a  delicacy  about  entering  the  lists,  a  plain,  unvarnished 
private  soldier,  against  those  generals.  While  I  am  some 
thing  of  a  liar  myself,  and  can  do  fairly  well  in  my  own 
class,  I  should  feel  that  in  the  Century  I  was  entered  in  too 
fast  a  class  of  liars,  and  the  result  would  be  that  I  should 
not  only  lose  my  entrance  fee,  but  be  distanced.  So  I 
have  decided  to  contribute  this  piece  of  history  solely  for 
the  benefit  of  the  readers  of  my  own  paper,  as  they  will 
believe  me. 


PUT   DOWN"   THE   REBELLION.  13 

It  was  in  1864  that  I  joined  a  cavalry  regiment  in  the 
department  of  the  Gulf,  a  raw  recruit  in  a  veteran  regiment. 
It  may  be  asked  why  I  waited  so  long  before  enlisting,  and 
why  I  enlisted  at  all,  when  the  war  was  so  near  over.  I 
know  that  the  most  of  the  soldiers  enlisted  from  patriotic 
motives,  and  because  they  wanted  to  help  shed  blood,  and 
wind  up  the  war.  I  did  not.  I  enlisted  for  the  bounty. 
I  thought  the  war  was  nearly  over,  and  that  the  probabili 
ties  were  that  the  legiment  I  had  enlisted  in  would  be 
ordered  home  before  I  could  get  to  it.  In  fact  the  re 
cruiting  officer  told  me  as  much,  and  he  said  I  would  get 
my  bounty,  and  a  few  months'  pay,  and  it  would  be  just 
like  finding  money.  He  said  at  that  late  day  I  would 
never  see  a  rebel,  and  if  I  did  have  to  join  the  regiment, 
there  would  be  no  fighting,  and  it  would  just  be  one  con 
tinued  picnic  for  two  or  three  months,  and  there  would  be 
no  more  danger  than  to  go  off  camping  for  a  duck  shoot. 
At  my  time  of  life,  now  that  I  have  become  gray,  and  bald, 
and  my  eyesight  is  failing,  and  I  have  become  a  grand 
father,  I  do  not  want  to  open  the  sores  of  twenty-two  years 
ago.  I  want  a  quiet  life.  So  I  would  not  assert  that  the 
recruiting  officer  deliberately  lied  to  me,  but  I  was  the 
worst  deceived  man  that  ever  enlisted,  and  if  I  ever  meet 
that  man,  on  this  earth,  it  will  go  hard  with  him.  Of 
course,  if  he  is  dead,  that  settles  it,  as  I  shall  not  follow 
any  man  after  death,  when  I  am  in  doubt  as  to  which  road 
he  has  taken,  but  if  he  is  alive,  and  reads  these  lines,  he 
can  hear  of  something  to  his  advantage  by  communicating 
with  me.  1  would  probably  kill  him.  As  far  as  the 
bounty  was  concerned,  I  got  that  all  right,  but  it  was  only 
three-hundred  dollars.  Within  twenty-four  hours  after  I 


14  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

had  been  credited  to  the  town  from  which  I  enlisted,  I  heard 
of  a  town  that  was  paying  as  high  as  twelve-hundred  dol 
lars  for  recruits.  I  have  met  with  many  reverses  of  fortune 
in  the  course  of  a  short,  but  brilliant  career,  have  loaned 
money  and  never  got  it  back,  have  been  taken  in  by  de 
signing  persons  on  three  card  monte,  and  have  been  beaten 
trading  horses,  but  I  never  suffered  much  more  than  I  did 
when  I  found  that  I  had  got  to  go  to  war  for  a  beggerly 
fliree-hundred  dollars  bounty,  when  I  could  have  had 
twelve  hundred  dollars  by  being  credited  to  another  town. 
1  think  that  during  two  years  and  a  half  of  service  nothing 
tended  more  to  dampen  my  amor,  make  me  despondent, 
and  hate  myself,  than  the  loss  of  that  nine-hundred  dollars 
bounty.  There  was  not  an  hour  of  the  day,  in  all  of  my 
service,  that  I  did  not  think  of  what  might  have  been.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  I  brought  to  my  aid  that  passage  of 
scripture,  "There  is  no  use  crying  for  spilled  bounty," 
but  when  I  did  it  helped  me  some.  I  thought  of  the  hun 
dreds  who  didn't  get  any  bounty. 

I  joined  my  regiment,  and  had  a  cavalry  horse  issued  to 
me,  and  was  assigned  to  a  company.  I  went  up  to  the  cap 
tain  of  the  company,  whom  I  had  known  as  a  farmer  before 
the  war  commenced,  and  told  him  I  had  come  to  help  him 
put  down  the  rebellion.  I  never  saw  a  man  so  changed  as 
he  was.  I  thought  he  would  ask  me  to  bring  my  things 
into  his  tent,  and  stav  with  him,  but  he  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  that  he  had  known  me,  when  he  worked  on  the 
farm.  He  was  dressed  up  nicely,  and  I  thought  he  put  on 
style,  and  I  could  only  think  of  him  at  home,  with  his 
overalls  tucked  in  his  boots,  driving  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  plow 
a  field.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  I  had  known  him  under 


PT7T  DOW1C  THE  BEBELLIOtf.  Id 

unfavorable  circumstances  before  the  war,  and  acted  as 
though  he  wanted  to  shun  me.  I  had  drawn  an  infantry 
knapsack,  at  Madison,  before  I  left  for  the  front,  and  had 
it  full  of  things,  besides  a  small  trunk.  The  captain  called 
a  soldier  and  told  him  to  find  quarters  for  me,  and  I  went 
out  of  his  presence.  At  my  quarters,  which  consisted  of 
what  was  called  a  pup-tent,  I  found  no  conveniences,  and 
it  soon  dawned  on  me  that  war  was  no  picnic,  as  that  lying 
recruiting  officer  had  told  me  it  was.  I  found  that  I  had 
got  to  throw  away  my  trunk  and  knapsack,  and  all  the 
articles  that  I  couldn't  strap  on  a  saddle,  and  when  I  asked 
for  a  mattress  the  men  laughed  at  me.  I  had  always  slept 
on  a  mattress,  or  a  feather  bed,  and  when  I  was  told  that 
I  would  have  to  sleep  on  the  ground,  under  that  little  tent, 
I  felt  hurt.  I  had  known  the  colonel  when  he  used  to 
teach  school  at  home,  and  I  went  to  him  and  told  h*m  what 
kind  of  a  way  they  were  treating  me,  but  he  only  laughed. 
He  had  two  nice  cots  in  his  tent,  and  I  told  him  I  thought 
I  ought  to  have  a  cot,  too.  He  laughed  some  more. 
Finally  I  asked  him  who  slept  in  his  extra  cot,  and  inti 
mated  that  I  had  rather  sleep  in  his  tent  than  mine,  but  he 
sent  me  away,  and  said  he  would  see  what  could  be  done. 
I  laid  on  the  ground  that  night,  but  I  didn't  sleep.  If  I 
ever  get  a  pension  it  will  be  for  rheumatism  caught  by 
sleeping  on  the  ground.  The  rheumatism  has  not  got  hold 
of  me  yet,  though  twenty-two  years  have  passed,  but  it 
may  be  lurking  about  my  system,  for  all  I  know. 

I  had  never  rode  a  horse,  before  enlisting.  The  only 
thing  I  had  ever  got  straddle  of  was  a  stool  in  a  country 
printing  office,  and  when  I  was  first  ordered  to  saddle  up 
my  horse,  I  could  not  tell  which  way  the  saddle  and  bridle 

2 


16  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

went,  and  I  got  a  colored  man  to  help  me,  for  which  I  paifl 
him  some  of  the  remains  of  my  bounty.  I  hired  him  per- 
manently,  to  take  care  of  my  horse,  but  I  soon  learned 
that  each  soldier  had  to  take  care  of  his  own  horse.  That 
seemed  pretty  hard.  I  had  been  raised  a  pet,  and  had 
edited  a  newspaper,  which  had  been  one  of  the  most  out 
spoken  advocates  of  crushing  the  rebellion,  and  it  seemed 
to  me,  as  much  as  I  had  done  for  the  government,  in 
urging  enlistments,  I  was  entitled  to  more  consideration 
then  to  become  my  own  hostler.  However,  I  curbed  my 
proud  spirit,  and  after  the  nigger  cook  had  saddled  my 
horse,  I  led  the  animal  up  to  a  fence  to  climb  on.  From 
the  remarks  of  the  soldiers,  and  the  general  laugh  all 
around,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  mounting  a  cavalry 
horse  from  off  the  top  of  a  rail  fence  was  not  according  to 
tactics,  but  it  was  the  only  way  I  could  see  to  get  on,  in 
the  absence  of  step-ladders.  They  let  me  ride  into  the 
ranks,  after  mounting,  and  then  they  laughed.  It  was 
hard  for  me  to  be  obliged  to  throw  away  all  the  acticles  I 
had  brought  with  me,  so  I  strapped  them  on  the  saddle  in 
front  and  behind,  and  only  my  head  stuck  out  over  them. 
There  was  one  thing,  it  would  be  a  practicable  impossi 
bility  to  fall  off.  The  regiment  started  on  a  raid.  The 
colonel  came  along  by  my  company  during  the  afternoon, 
and  I  asked  him  where  we  were  going.  He  gave  me  an 
evasive  answer,  which  hurt  my  feelings.  I  asked  his 
pardon,  but  told  him  I  would  like  to  know  where  we  were 
going,  so  as  to  have  my  letters  sent  to  me,  but  he  went  off 
laughing,  and  never  told  me,  while  the  old  soldiers  laughed, 
though  I  couldn't  see  what  they  were  laughing  at.  I  did 
not  suppose  there  was  so  much  difference  between  officers 


PUT  DOWK  THE   REBELLION-.  17 

and  privates,  and  wondered  if  it  was  the  policy  of  this 
government  to  have  a  cavalry  regiment  to  start  off  on  a 
long  raid  and  not  let  the  soldiers  know  where  they  were 
going,  and  during  the  afternoon  I  decided  to  write  home  to 
the  paper  I  formerly  edited  and  give  my  opinion  of  such  a 
fool  way  of  running  a  war.  Suppose  anybody  at  home  was 
sick,  they  wouldn't  know  where  to  write  for  me  to  come 
back.  There  is  nothing  that  will  give  a  man  such  an  appe 
tite  as  riding  on  a  galloping  horse,  and  along  about  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  I  began  to  get  hungry,  and  asked 
the  orderly  sergeant  when  we  were  going  to  get  any  dinner. 
He  said  there  was  a  hotel  a  short  distance  ahead,  and  the 
colonel  had  gone  forward  to  order  dinner  for  the  regiment. 
I  believed  him,  because  I  had  known  the  orderly  before 
the  war,  when  he  drove  a  horse  in  a  brickyard,  grinding 
clay.  But  he  was  a  liar,  too,  as  I  found  out  afterwards. 
There  was  not  a  hotel  within  fifty  miles,  and  soldiers  did 
not  stop  at  hotels,  anyway.  Finally  the  orderly  sergeant 
came  along  and  announced  that  dinner  was  ready,  and  I 
looked  for  the  hotel,  but  the  only  dinner  I  saw  was  some 
raw  pork  that  soldiers  took  out  of  their  saddle  bags,  with 
hard  tack.  We  stopped  in  the  woods,  dismounted,  and  the 
boys  would  cut  off  a  slice  of  fat  pork  and  spread  it  on  the 
hard  tack  and  eat  it.  I  had  never  supposed  the  govern 
ment  would  subject  its  soldiers  to  such  fare  as  that,  and  I 
wouldn't  eat.  I  did  not  dare  dismount,  as  there  was  no 
fence  near  that  I  could  use  to  climb  on  to  my  horse,  so  I  sat 
in  the  saddle  and  let  the  horse  eat  some  grass,  while  I 
thought  of  home,  and  pie  and  cake,  and  what  a  condemned 
fool  a  man  was  to  leave  a  comfortable  home  to  go  and  put 
down  anybody's  rebellion.  The  way  I  left  then  X  wouldn't 


1.8  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.   PECK 

have  touched  a  rebellion  if  one  lay  right  in  the  road. 
What  business  was  it  of  mine  if  some  people  in  the  South 
wanted  to  dissolve  partnership  and  go  set  up  business  for 
themselves?  How  was  I  going  to  prevent  them  from  hav 
ing  a  southern  confederacy,  by  riding  an  old  rack  of  bones 
of  a  horse,  that  would  reach  his  nose  around  every  little 
while  and  chew  my  legs?  If  the  recruiting  officer  who  in 
veigled  me  into  the  army  had  come  along  then,  his  widow 
would  now  be  drawing  a  pension.  "While  I  was  thinking, 
dreaming  of  home,  and  the  horse  was  eating  grass,  the 
fool  animal  suddenly  took  it  into  his  head  to  lay  down  and 
roll,  and  before  I  could  kick  any  of  his  ribs  in,  he  was 
down,  and  I  was  rolling  off,  with  one  leg  under  him.  The 
soldiers  quit  eating  and  pulled  the  horse  off  me,  an<J  hoisted 
me  up  into  the  space  between  my  baggage,  and  then  they 
laughed,  lit  their  pipes  and  smoked,  as  happy  as  could  be. 
T  couldn't  see  how  they  could  be  happy,  and  wondered  if 
they  were  not  sick  of  war.  Then  they  mounted,  and  on 
we  went.  My  legs  and  body  became  chafed,  and  it  seemed 
as  though  I  couldn't  ride  another  minute,  and  when  the 
captain  came  along  I  told  him  about  it,  and  asked  him  if  I 
couldn't  be  relieved  some  way.  He  said  the  only  way  was 
for  me  to  stand  on  my  head  and  ride,  and  he  winked  at  a 
soldier  near  me,  and,  do  you  know,  that  soldier  actually, 
changed  ends  with  himself  and  stood  on  his  head  and  hands 
in  the  saddle  and  rode  quite  a  distance,  and  the  captain 
said  that  was  the  way  a  cavalry  soldier  rested  himself. 
Gracious,  I  wouldn't  have  tried  that  for  the  world,  and  I 
found  out  afterwards  that  the  soldier  who  stood  on  his 
head  formerly  belonged  with  a  circus. 

J  impose  it  was  wroug  to  complain,  but  the  how  they 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  19 

gave  me  was  the  meanest  horse  in  the  regiment.  He 
would  bite  and  kick  the  other  horses,  and  they  would  kick 
back,  and  about  half  the  time  I  was  dodging  the  heels  of 
horses,  and  a  good  deal  of  the  time  I  was  wondering  if  a 
man  would  get  any  pension  if  he  was  wounded  that  way. 
It  would  seem  pretty  tough  to  go  home  on  a  stretcher,  as 
a  wounded  soldier,  and  have  people  find  out  a  horse  kicked 
you.  I  never  had  been  a  man  of  blood,  and  didn't  enlist 
to  kill  anybody,  as  I  could  prove  by  that  recruiting  officer, 
and  I  didn't  want  to  fight,  but  from  what  I  could  gather 
from  the  conversation  of  the  soldiers,  fighting  and  killing 
people  was  about  all  they  thought  about.  They  talked 
about  this  one  and  that  one  who  had  been  killed,  and  the 
hundreds  of  confederates  they  had  all  shot  or  killed  with 
sabres,  until  my  hair  just  stood  right  up.  It  seems  that 
twelve  or  fifteen  men,  more  or  less,  had  been  shot  off  the 
horse  I  was  riding,  and  one  fellow  who  rode  next  to  me 
said  no  man  who  ever  rode  that  old  yellow  horse  had  es 
caped  alive.  This  was  cheering  to  me,  and  I  would  have 
given  my  three  hundred  dollars  bounty,  and  all  I  could 
borrow,  if  I  could  get  out  of  the  army.  However,  I  found 
out  afterwards  that  the  soldier  lied.  In  fact  they  all  lied, 
and  they  lied  for  my  benefit.  We  struck  into  the  woods, 
and  traveled  until  after  dark,  with  no  road,  and  the  march 
was  enlivened  by  remarks  of  the  soldiers  near  me  to  the 
effect  that  we  would  probably  never  get  out  of  the  woods 
alive.  They  said  we  were  trying  to  surround  an  army  of 
rebels,  and  cut  them  off  from  the  main  army,  and  the 
chances  were  that  when  tomorrow's  sun  rose  it  would  rise 
on  the  ghostly  corpses  of  the  whole  regiment,  with  jackals 
siting  us.  Qnj  Q£  the  soldiers  took 


20  HOW  PBIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECU 

thing  from  his  pocket,  about  the  size  of  a  testament, 
pressed  it  to  his  heart,  and  then  kissed  it,  and  I  felt  as 
though  I  was  about  to  faint,  but  by  the  light  of  a  match 
which  another  soldier  had  scratched  on  his  pants  to  light 
his  pipe,  I  saw  that  what  I  supposed  to  be  a  testament,  was 
a  box  of  sardines  the  soldier  had  bought  of  the  sutler.  I 
was  just  about  to  die  of  hunger,  exhaustion,  and  fright  at 
the  fearful  stories  the  veterans  had  been  telling,  when 
there  was  a  shout  at  the  head  of  the  regiment,  which  was 
taken  up  all  along  the  line,  my  horse  ran  under  the  limb 
of  a  tree  and  raked  me  out  of  the  saddle,  and  I  hung  to 
the  limb,  my  legs  hanging  down,  and— 


PUT  DOWff  THE  KEBELLIOM. 


CHAPTER  II. 

I  AM  RUDELY  AWAKENED  FROM  DREAMS  OP  HOME— I  Go  on 
PICKET — THE  FOE  ADVANCES — A  DESPERATE  CONFLICT — 
THE  UNION- CONFEDERATE  BREAKFAST  ON  THE  ALABAMA  RACE 
TRACK  —  A  FRIENDLY  PARTING 

The  careful  readers  of  this  history  have  no  doubt  been 
worried  about  the  manner  in  which  the  first  chapter  closed, 
leaving  me  hanging  to  a  limb  of  a  tree,  like  Absalom  weep 
ing  for  her  children,  my  horse  having  gone  out  from  under 
me.  But  I  have  not  been  hanging  there  all  this  time. 
The  soldiers  took  me  down,  and  caught  my  horse,  and  the 
regiment  dismounted  and  a  council  of  war  was  held.  1 
suppose  it  was  a  council  of  war,  as  I  noticed  the  officers 
were  all  in  a  group  under  a  tree,  with  a  candle,  examining 
a  map,  and  drinking  out  of  a  canteen.  I  had  read  of 
councils  of  war,  but  I  had  never  seen  one,  and  so  I  walked 
over  to  the  crowd  of  officers  and  asked  the  colonel  if  there 
was  anything  particular  the  matter.  I  never  saw  a  crowd 
of  men  who  seemed  so  astonished  as  those  officers  were, 
and  suddenly  I  felt  myself  going  away  from  where  they 
were  consulting,  with  somebody's  strong  hand  on  my 
collar,  and  an  unmistakable  cavalry  boot,  with  a  man  in  it, 
in  the  vicinity  of  my  pantaloons.  I  do  not  know  to  this 
day,  which  officer  it  was  that  kicked  me,  but  I  went  away 
and  sat  under  a  tree  in  the  dark,  so  hungry  that  I  was  near 
dead,  and  I  wished  I  was  dead.  I  guess  the  officers  wished 
that  I  was,  too.  The  soldiers  tried  to  console  me  by  tell 
ing  me  I  was  too  fresh,  but  I  couldn't  see  why  a  private 


22  HOW  PRIVATE  GEOEGE  W.  PECK 

soldier,  right  from  home,  who  knew  all  about  the  public 
sentiment  at  the  north  in  regard  to  the  way  the  war  was 
conducted,  should  not  have  a  voice  in  the  consultations  of 
officers.  I  had  written  many  editorials  before  I  left  home, 
criticising  the  manner  in  which  many  generals  had  handled 
their  commands,  and  pointed  out  to  my  readers  how  defeat 
could  have  been  turned  into  victory,  if  the  generals  had 
done  as  I  would  have  done  in  their  places.  It  seemed  to 
me  the  officers  of  my  regiment  were  taking  a  suicidal  course 
in  barring  me  out  of  their  consultations.  A  soldier  had 
told  me  that  we  were  lost  in  the  woods,  and  as  I  had 
studied  geography  when  at  school,  and  was  well  posted 
about  Alabama,  it  seemed  as  though  a  little  advice  from  me 
would  be  worth  a  good  deal.  But  I  concluded  to  let  them 
stay  lost  forever  before  I  would  volunteer  any  information. 
It  was  crawling  along  towards  midnight,  of  my  first  day  in 
the  army,  and  I  had  eaten  nothing  since  morning.  As  I 
sat  there  under  the  tree  I  fell  asleep,  and  was  dreaming  of 
home,  and  warm  biscuit,  with  honey,  and  a  feather  bed, 
when  I  was  rudely  awakened  by  a  corporal  who  told  me  to 
mount.  I  asked  him  what  for,  and  told  him  that  I  didn't 
want  to  ride  any  more  that  night.  What  I  wanted  was  to 
be  let  alone,  to  sleep.  He  said  to  get  on  the  horse  too 
quick,  and  I  found  there  was  no  use  arguing  with  a  com 
mon  corporal,  so  the  boys  hoisted  me  on  to  the  horse,  and 
about  nine  of  us  started  off  through  the  woods  in  the 
moonlight,  looking  for  a  main  road.  The  corporal  was 
kind  enough  to  say  that  as  soon  as  we  found  a  road  we 
would  put  out  a  picket,  and  send  a  courier  back  to  the 
regiment  to  inform  the  colonel  that  we  had  got  out  of 
tke  woo4s,|  &n4  t}ie  rest  pf  m  would,  lay  dpwu  and  gje§p  till 


PUT  DOWK  THE  KEBELLION.  23 

morning.  I  don't  think  I  was  ever  so  anxious  to  see  a 
road  in  all  my  life,  because  I  did  want  to  lay  down  and 
sleep,  and  die.  0,  if  I  could  have  telegraphed  home,  how 
I  would  have  warned  the  youth  of  the  land  to  beware  of 
the  allurements  held  out  by  recruiting  officers,  and  to  let 
war  alone.  In  an  hour  or  so  we  came  to  a  clearing,  and 
presently  to  a  road,  and  we  stopped.  The  corporal  detailed 
me  to  go  up  the  road  a  short  distance  and  stand  picket  on 
my  horse.  That  was  not  what  I  had  expected  of  the  cor 
poral.  I  used  to  know  him  before  the  war  when  he  worked 
in  a  paint  shop  in  a  wagon  factory,  and  I  had  always 
treated  him  well,  and  it  seemed  as  though  he  ought  to 
favor  me  by  letting  somebody  else  go  on  picket.  I  told 
him  that  the  other  boys  were  more  accustomed  to  such 
work  than  I  was,  and  that  I  would  resign  in  their  favor, 
because  what  I  wanted  was  rest,  but  he  said  I  would  have 
to  go,  and  he  called  me  "  Camp  and  Garrison  Equipage/' 
because  I  carried  so  much  luggage  on  my  horse,  a  name 
that  held  to  me  for  months.  I  found  that  there  was  no 
use  kicking  against  going  on  picket  duty  that  night,  though 
I  tried  to  argue  with  the  corporal  that  it  would  be  just  as 
well  to  all  lay  dawn  and  sleep  till  morning,  and  put  out  a 
picket  when  it  got  light  enough  to  see.  I  was  willing  to 
work  during  the  day  time  for  the  government,  but  it 
seemed  as  though  it  was  rushing  things  a  little  to  make  a 
man  work  day  and  night  for  thirteen  dollars  a  month.  So 
the  corporal  went  out  on  the  road  with  me  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile,  and  placed  me  in  position  and  gave  me  my  in 
structions.  The  instructions  were  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout 
up  and  down  the  road  for  Confederate  cavalry,  and  if  1 
saw  Anybody  approaching  to  sing  out  "halt I "  f*a4  }l  *« 


24  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

party  did  not  halt  to  shoot  him,  and  then  call  for  the  cor 
poral  of  the  guard,  who  would  come  out  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  I  asked  him  what  I  should  do  if  anybody 
came  along  and  shot  me,  and  he  said  that  would  be  all 
right,  that  the  boys  would  come  out  and  bury  me.  He 
said  I  must  keep  awake,  for  if  I  got  to  sleep  on  my  post 
I  would  be  court-martialed  and  shot,  and  then  he  rode 
away  and  left  me  alone,  on  a  horse  that  kept  whinnying, 
and  calling  the  attention  of  possible  Confederates  to  my 
position. 

I  do  not  think  any  reader  of  these  papers  will  envy  me 
the  position  I  was  in  at  that  time.  If  I  remained  awake, 
I  was  liable  to  be  killed  by  the  enemy,  and  if  I  fell  asleep 
on  my  post  I  would  be  shot  anyway.  And  if  I  was  not 
killed,  it  was  probable  I  would  be  a  murderer  before  morn 
ing.  Hunger  was  gnawing  at  my  stomach,  and  the  horse 
was  gnawing  at  my  legs,  and  I  was  gnawing  at  a  hard  tack 
which  I  had  found  in  the  saddle-bag.  Every  little  while  1 
would  hear  a  noise,  and  my  hair  would  raise  my  hat  up, 
and  it  would  seem  to  me  as  though  the  next  minute  a 
volley  would  be  fired  at  me,  and  I  shrunk  down  between 
the  piles  of  baggage  on  my  saddle  to  be  protected  from 
bullets.  Suddenly  the  moon  came  out  from  behind  a  cloud 
and  around  a  turn  in  the  road  a  solitary  horseman  might 
have  been  seen  coming  towards  me.  I  never  have  seen  a 
horse  that  looked  as  high  as  that  horse  did.  He  seemed  at 
least  eighteen  feet  high,  and  the  man  on  him  was  certainly 
twelve  feet  high.  My  heart  pounded  against  a  tin  canteen 
that  I  had  strung  around  my  shoulder,  so  I  could  hear  the 
beating  perfectly  plain.  The  man  was  approaching,  and  I 
was  trying  to  think  whether  I  had  been  instructed  to  shoot 


PUT  DOWtf  THE  REBELLION.  25 

and  then  call  for  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  or  call  for  the 
corporal  and  then  ask  him  to  halt.  I  knew  there  was  a 
halt  in  my  instructions,  and  wondered  if  it  would  not  con 
ciliate  the  enemy  to  a  certain  extent  if  I  would  say  "Please 
Halt. "  The  fact  was,  I  didn't  want  to  have  any  fuss.  If 
I  could  have  backed  my  horse  up  into  the  woods,  and  let 
the  man  go  by,  it  seemed  as  though  it  would  save  precipi 
tating  a  conflict.  It  is  probable  that  no  military  man  was 
ever  in  so  tight  a  place  as  I  was  that  minute.  The  enemy 
was  advancing,  and  I  wondered  if,  when  he  got  near  enough, 
I  could  say  ' '  halt,"  in  a  commanding  tone  of  voice.  I  knew 
enough,  then,  to  feel  that  to  ask  the  stranger  to  halt  in  a 
trembling  and  husky  voice  would  give  the  whole  thing 
away,  that  I  was  a  recruit  and  a  coward.  Ye  gods,  how  I 
suffered  !  I  wondered  if  I  could  hit  a  man  with  a  bullet. 
Before  the  war  I  was  quite  a  good  shot  with  a  shotgun, 
shooting  into  flocks  of  pigeons  and  ducks,  and  I  thought 
what  a  good  idea  it  would  be  if  I  could  get  that  approach 
ing  rebel  into  a  flock.  The  idea  seemed  so  ridiculous  that 
I  laughed  right  out  loud.  It  was  not  a  hearty,  happy 
laugh,  but  it  was  a  laugh  all  the  same,  and  I  was  proud 
that  I  could  laugh  in  the  face  of  danger,  when  I  might  be 
a  corpse  any  minute.  The  man  on  the  horse  stopped. 
Whether  he  heard  me  laugh  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  he 
stopped.  That  relieved  me  a  great  deal.  As  he  had 
stopped  it  was  unnecessary  for  me  to  invite  him  to  halt. 
He  was  welcome  to  stay  there  if  he  wanted  to.  I  argued 
that  it  was  not  my  place  to  go  howling  around  the  Southern 
Confederacy,  ordering  people  to  halt,  when  they  had  al 
ready  halted.  If  he  would  let  me  alone  and  stay  where  he 
was,  what  sense  was  there  in  picking  a  quarrel  with  him  ? 


26  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

Why  should  I  want  to  shoot  a  total  stranger,  who  might 
have  a  family  at  home,  somewhere  in  the  South,  whf 
would  mourn  for  him.  He  might  be  a  dead  shot,  as  man} 
Southern  gentlemen  were,  and  if  I  went  to  advising  him 
about  halting,  it  would  very  likely  cause  his  hot  Southern 
blood  to  boil,  and  he  would  say  he  had  just  as  much 
right  to  that  road  as  I  had.  If  it  come  right  down  to  the 
justice  of  the  thing,  I  should  have  to  admit  that  Alabama 
was  not  my  state.  Wisconsin  was  my  home,  and  if  I  was 
up  there,  and  a  man  should  trespass  on  my  property,  it 
would  be  reasonable  enough  for  me  to  ask  him  to  go  away 
from  there,  and  enforce  my  request  by  calling  a  constable 
and  having  him  put  off  the  premises.  But  how  did  I  know 
but  he  owned  property  t'aere,  and  was  a  tax-payer.  I  had 
it  all  figured  out  that  I  was  right  in  not  disturbing  that 
rebel,  and  I  knew  that  I  could  argue  with  my  colonel  for  a 
week,  if  necessary,  on  the  law  points  in  the  case,  and  the 
courtesy  that  I  deemed  proper  between  gentlemen,  if 
any  complaint  was  made  for  not  doing  my  duty.  But, 
lordy,  how  I  did  sweat  while  I  was  deciding  to  let  him 
alone  if  he  would  let  me  alone.  The  war  might  have  been 
going  on  now,  and  that  rebel  and  myself  might  have  been 
standing  there  today,  looking  at  each  other,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  action  of  the  fool  horse  that  I  rode.  My  horse 
had  been  evidently  asleep  for  some  time,  but  suddenly  he 
woke  up,  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  began  to  prance,  and 
jump  sideways  like  a  race  horse  that  is  on  the  track,  and 
wants  to  run.  The  horse  reared  up  and  plunged,  and  kept 
working  up  nearer  to  my  Southern  friend,  and  I  tried  to 
hold  him,  and  keep  him  still,  but  suddenly  he  got  the  best 
of  me  and  started  towards  the  other  man  and  horse,  and 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  27 

the  other  horse  started,  as  though  some  one  had  said 
-go."* 

I  do  not  suppose  any  man  on  this  earth,  or  any  other 
earth,  ever  tried  to  stop  a  fool  horse  quite  as  hard  as  I  did 
that  one.  I  pulled  until  my  arms  ached,  but  he  went  for 
all  that  was  out,  and  the  horse  ahead  of  me  was  buckling 
in  as  fast  as  he  could.  I  could  not  help  wondering  what- 
would  happen  if  I  should  overtake  that  Southern  man.  1 
was  gaining  on  him,  when  suddenly  eight  or  nine  men  who 
were  sleeping  beside  the  road,  got  up  and  began  to  shoot 
at  us.  They  were  the  friends  of  the  rebel,  who  believed 
that  the  whole  Union  army  was  making  a  charge  on  them. 
We  got  by  the  shooters  alive,  and  then,  as  we  passed  the 
rickety  old  judge's  stand,  I  realized  that  we  were  on  a  race 
track,  and  for  a  moment  I  forgot  that  I  was  a  soldier,  and 
only  thought  of  myself  as  a  rider  of  a  race  horse,  and  I 
gave  the  horse  his  head,  and  kicked  him,  and  yelled  like  a 
Comanche  Indian,  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  my 
horse  go  by  the  rebel,  and  I  yelled  some  more.  I  got  a 
glimpse  of  my  rebel's  face  as  I  went  by  him,  and  he  didn't 

*  [Before  I  get  any  further  on  this  history  of  the  war,  it  is  necessary  to 
explain.  The  facts  proved  to  be  that  my  regiment  had  got  lost  in  the  woods, 
and  the  scouting  party,  under  the  corporal,  who  had  been  sent  out  to  find  a 
road,  had  come  upon  the  three-quarter  stretch  of  an  old  private  race  track 
on  a  deserted  southern  plantation,  instead  of  a  main  road,  and  I  had  been 
placed  on  picket  near  the  last  turn  before  striking  the  quarter  stretch.  A  small 
party  of  Confederates,  who  had  been  out  on  a  scout,  and  got  lost,  had  come 
on  the  track  further  down,  near  the  judges'  stand,  and  they  had  put  a  man 
on  picket  up  near  where  I  was,  supposing  they  had  struck  the  road,  and 
intending  to  wait  until  morning  so  as  to  find  out  where  they  were.  My  horse 
was  an  old  race  horse,  and  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  other  horse,  he  was  in  for  a 
race  and  the  other  horse  was  willing.  This  will  show  the  situation  as  well  as 
though  I  had  a  race  track  engraved,  showing  the  positions  of  the  two 
armies.  The  Confederates,  except  the  man  on  picket,  were  asleep  beside  the 
track  near  the  quarter  stretch,  and  our  fellows,  except  myself,  were  asleeo 
over  by  the  three-quarter  pole.] 


28  HOW  PEIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

look  much  more  like  a  fighting  man  than  I  did,  but  he 
was,  for  as  soon  as  I  had  got  ahead  of  him  he  drew  a 
revolver  and  began  firing  at  me  on  the  run.  I  thought 
that  was  a  mean  trick,  and  spoke  to  him  about  it  after 
wards,  but  he  said  he  only  wanted  me  to  stop  so  he  could 
get  acquainted  with  me.  Well,  I  never  could  find  any 
bullets  in  any  of  the  clothes  strapped  on  the  back  of  my 
saddle,  but  it  did  seem  to  me  as  though  every  bullet  from 
his  revolver  hit  very  near  my  vital  parts.  But  a  new  dan 
ger  presented  itself.  We  were  rapidly  approaching  the 
corporal  and  his  men,  with  whose  command  I  belonged, 
and  they  would  wake  up  and  think  the  whole  Confederate 
army  was  charging  them,  and  if  I  was  not  killed  by  the 
confounded  rebel  behind  me,  I  should  probably  be  shot  all  to 
pieces  by  our  own  men.  As  we  passed  our  men  they  fired 
a  few  sleepy  shots  towards  us,  and  took  to  the  woods.  On 
went  the  two  night  riders,  and  when  the  rebel  had  ex 
hausted  his  revolver  he  began  to  urge  his  horse,  and  passed 
me,  and  I  drew  my  revolver  and  began  to  fire  at  him.  As 
we  passed  the  judge's  stand  the  second  time  a  couple  of 
shots  from  quite  a  distance  in  the  woods  showed  that  his 
rebel  friends  had  taken  alarm  at  the  frequent  charges  of 
cavalry,  and  had  skipped  to  the  woods  and  were  getting 
away  as  fast  as  possible.  We  went  around  the  track  once 
more,  and  when  near  the  judge's  stand  I  was  right  behind 
him,  and  his  horse  fell  down  and  my  horse  stumbled  over 
him,  and  I  guess  we  were  both  stunned.  Finally  I  crawled 
amt  from  under  my  horse,  and  the  rebel  was  trying  to  raise 
up,  when  I  said,  "  What  in  thunder  you  want  to  chase  a 
man  all  around  the  Southern  Confederacy  for,  on  a  dark 
night,  trying  to  shoot  him?"  He  asked  me  to  help  him 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  29 

up,  which  I  did,  when  he  said,  "  Who  commenced  this 
here  chasing?  If  you  had  kept  whar  you  was,  I  wouldn't 
a  had  no  truck  with  you."  Then  I  said,  "You  are  my 
prisoner,"  and  he  said,  "  No,  you  are  my  prisoner."  I  told 
him  I  was  no  hand  to  argue,  but  it  seemed  to  me  it  was 
about  a  stand  off,  as  to  which  was  Mother's  prisoner.  I 
told  him  that  was  my  first  day's  service  as  a  soldier,  and  I 
was  not  posted  as  to  the  customs  of  civilized  warfare,  but 
I  was  willing  to  wait  till  daylight,  leaving  matters  just  as 
they  were,  each  of  us  on  the  defensive,  giving  up  none  of 
our  rights,  and  after  daylight  we  would  play  a  game  of 
seven-up  to  see  which  was  the  prisoner.  That  seemed  fair 
to  him,  and  he  accepted  the  situation,  remarking  that  he 
had  only  been  conscripted  a  few  days  and  didn't  know  any 
more  about  war  than  a  cow.  He  said  he  was  a  newspaper 
man  from  Georgia,  and  had  been  taken  right  from  the  case 
in  his  office  before  his  paper  could  be  got  out.  I  told  him 
I  was  only  a  few  days  out  of  a  country  printing  office  my 
self,  the  sheriff  having  closed  out  my  business  on  an  old 
paper  bill.  A  bond  of  sympathy  was  inaugurated  at  once 
between  us,  and  when  he  limped  along  the  track  to  the 
fence,  and  found  that  his  ankle  was  hurt  by  the  fall,  I 
brought  a  bottle  of  horse  liniment  out  of  my  saddle-bags, 
and  a  rag,  and  bound  some  liniment  on  his  ankle.  He  said 
he  had  never  seen  a  Yankee  soldier  before,  and  he  was  glad 
he  had  met  me.  I  told  him  he  was  the  first  rebel  I  had 
ever  met,  and  I  hoped  he  would  be  the  last,  until  the  war 
was  over.  By  this  time  our  horses  had  gone  to  nibbling 
grass,  as  though  there  were  no  such  thing  as  war.  We 
could  hear  occasional  bugle  calls  off  in  the  woods  in  two 
directions,  and  knew  that  our  respective  commands  had 


80  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

gone  off  and  got  lost  again,  so  we  concluded  to  camp  there 
till  morning.  After  the  excitement  was  over  I  began  to 
get  hungry,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  had  anything  to  eat. 
He  said  he  had  some  corn  bread  and  bacon,  and  he  could 
get  some  sweet  potatoes  over  in  a  field.  So  I  built  a  fire 
there  on  the  track,  and  he  hobbled  oif  after  potatoes.  Just 
about  daylight  breakfast  was  served,  consisting  of  coffee, 
which  I  carried  in  a  sack,  made  in  a  pot  he  carried,  bacon 
fried  in  a  half  of  a  tin  canteen,  sweet  potatoes  roasted  in 
the  ashes,  and  Confederate  corn  bread,  warmed  by  holding 
it  over  the  fire  on  a  sharp  stick.  My  friend,  the  rebel,  sat 
on  my  saddle,  which  I  had  removed  from  my  horse,  after 
he  had  promised  me  on  his  honor  to  help  me  to  put  it  on 
when  it  was  time  to  mount.  He  knew  how  to  put  on 
saddles,  and  I  didn't,  and  as  his  ankle  was  lame  I  gave  him 
the  best  seat,  he  being  my  guest,  that  is,  he  was  my  guest 
if  I  beat  him  in  the  coming  game  of  seven-up,  which  we 
were  to  play  to  see  if  he  was  my  prisoner,  or  I  was  his.  It 
being  daylight,  I  could  see  him,  and  study  his  character, 
and  honestly  he  was  a  mighty  fine-looking  fellow.  As  we 
eat  our  early  breakfast  I  began  to  think  that  the  recruiting 
officer  was  more  than  half  right  about  war  being  a  picnic. 
He  talked  about  the  newspaper  business  in  the  South,  and 
before  breakfast  was  over  we  had  formed  a  partnership  to 
publish  a  paper  at  Montgomery,  Ala.,  after  the  war  should 
be  over.  I  have  eaten  a  great  many  first-class  meals  in  m> 
time,  have  feasted  at  Delmonico's,  and  lived  at  the  bes£ 
jiotels  in  the  land,  besides  partaking  pretty  fair  food  camp 
ing  out,  where  an  appetite  was  worked  up  by  exercise  and 
sporting,  but  in  all  my  life  I  have  never  had  anything  taste 
as  good  as  that  combination  Union-Confederate  breakfast 


PUT  DOWK  THI,  REBELLION.  31 

on  the  Alabama  race  track,  beside  the  judges  stand.  After 
the  last  potato  peeling,  and  the  last  crumb  of  corn  bread 
had  been  "sopped"  in  the  bacon  gravy  and  eaten,  we 
whittled  some  tobacco  off  a  plug,  filled  our  pipes  and  leaned 
up  against  the  fence  and  smoked  the  most  enjoyable  smoke 
that  ever  was  smoked.  After  smoking  in  silence  a  few 
minutes  my  rebel  friend  said,  as  he  blew  the  smoke  from 
his  handsome  mouth,  "  War  is  not  so  unpleasant,  after 
all."  Then  we  fell  to  talking  about  the  manner  in  which 
the  different  generals  on  each  side  had  conducted  things. 
He  went  on  to  show  that  if  Lee  had  taken  his  advice,  the 
Yankees  would  then  be  on  the  run  for  the  North,  and  I 
showed  him,  by  a  few  well-chosen  remarks  that  if  I  could 
have  been  close  to  Grant,  and  given  him  some  pointers, 
that  the  Confederates  would  be  hunting  their  holes.  We 
were  both  convinced  that  it  was  a  great  mistake  that  we 
were  nothing  but  private  soldiers,  but  felt  that  it  would 
not  be  long  before  we  were  called  to  occupy  high  places. 
It  seemed  to  stand  to  reason  that  true  merit  would  find  its 
reward.  Then  he  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  and 
said  if  I  had  a  pack  of  cards  we  would  go  up  in  the  judges 
stand  and  play  seven-up  to  see  whether  I  was  his  prisoner, 
or  he  was  mine.  I  wanted  to  take  a  prisoner  back  to  the 
regiment,  as  I  thought  it  would  make  me  solid  with  the 
colonel,  and  I  played  a  strong  game  of  seven-up,  but  be 
fore  we  got  started  to  playing  he  suggested  that  we  call  it 
a  stand-off,  and  agree  that  neither  of  us  should  be  a  pris 
oner,  but  that  when  we  got  ready  to  part  each  should  go 
hunt  up  his  own  command,  and  tell  the  biggest  lie  we  could 
think  of  as  to  the  fight  we  had  had.  That  was  right  into 
my  hand,  and  I  agreed,  and  then  my  friend  suggested  that 


33  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  TV. 

we  play  poker  for  money.  I  consented  and  he  put  up  Con 
federate  money,  against  my  greenbacks,  ten  to  one.  We 
played  about  an  hour,  and  at  the  close  he  had  won  the 
balance  of  my  bounty,  except  what  I  had  given  to  the  chap 
lain  for  safe  keeping,  and  a  pair  of  pants,  and  a  blouse,  and 
a  flannel  shirt,  and  a  pair  of  shoes,  which  I  had  on  my  sad 
dle.  I  was  rather  glad  to  get  rid  of  some  of  my  extra  bag 
gage,  and  when  he  put  on  the  clothes  he  had  won  from  me, 
blessed  if  I  wasn't  rather  proud  of  him.  A  man  could 
wear  any  kind  of  clothes  in  the  Confederate  army,  and  my 
rebel  looked  real  comfortable  in  my  clothes,  and  I  felt  that 
it  was  a  real  kind  act  to  allow  him  to  win  a  blue  suit  that  I 
did  not  need.  If  the  men  of  both  the  armies,  and  the 
people  of  both  sections  of  the  distracted  country  could 
have  seen  us  two  soldiers  together,  there  in  the  judges 
stand,  peacefully  playing  poker,  while  the  battles  were 
raging  in  the  East  and  in  the  West,  they  would  have  felt 
that  an  era  of  good  feeling  was  about  to  dawn  on  the  coun 
try.  After  we  had  played  enough  poker,  and  I  had  lost 
everything  I  had  that  was  loose,  I  suggested  that  he  sing  a 
song,  so  he  sung  the  "  Bonnie  Blue  Flag."  I  did  not 
think  it  was  right  for  him  to  work  in  a  rebel  song  on  me, 
but  it  did  sound  splendid,  and  I  forgot  that  there  was  any 
war,  in  listening  to  the  rich  voice  of  my  new  friend.  When 
iie  got  through  he  asked  me  to  sing  something.  I  never 
could  sing,  anyway.  My  folks  had  always  told  me  that  my 
voice  sounded  like  a  corn  sheller,  but  he  urged  me  at  his 
own  peril,  and  I  sung,  or  tried  to,  "We'll  Hang  Jeff  Davis 
to  a  Sour  Apple  Tree."  I  had  no  designs  on  Mr.  Davis, 
honestly  I  hadn't,  and  it  was  the  farthest  thing  from  my 
Noughts  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  that  young  man,  but  be- 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  33 

fore  I  had  finished  the  first  verse  he  took  his  handkerchief 
out  and  placed  it  to  his  eyes.  I  stopped  and  apologized, 
but  he  said  not  to  mind  him,  as  '  he  was  better  now.  He 
-told  me,  afterwards,  in  the  strictest  confidence,  that  my 
singing  was  the  worst  he  ever  heard,  and  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that  if  Jeff  Davis  could  hear  me  sing  he  would 
be  willing,  even  anxious,  to  be  hung.  If  I  had  been  sensi 
tive  about  my  musical  talents,  probably  there  would  have 
been  hard  feelings,  and  possibly  bloodshed,  right  there,  but 
I  told  him  I  always  knew  I  couldn't  sing,  and  he  said  that 
I  was  in  luck.  "Well,  we  fooled  around  there  till  about  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  decided  that  we  would  part, 
and  each  seek  our  respective  commands,  so  I  put  some  more 
horse  liniment  on  his  sprained  ankle,  and  he  saddled  my 
horse  for  me,  and  after  expressions  of  mutual  pleasure  at 
meeting  each  other,  and  promises  that  after  the  war  we 
would  seek  each  other  out,  we  mounted,  he  gave  three 
cheers  for  the  "Yanks,"  and  I  gave  three  cheers  for  the 
"Johnnies,"  he  divided  his  plug  of  tobacco  with  me,  and 
I  gave  him  the  bottle  of  horse  liniment,  he  turned  his  horse 
towards  the  direction  his  gray  coats  had  taken  the  night 
before,  while  I  turned  my  horse  towards  the  hole  in  the 
woods  our  fellows  had  made,  and  we  left  the  race  track 
where  we  had  fought  so  gamely,  eat  so  heartily,  and  played 
poker  so  disastrously,  to  me.  As  we  were  each  about  going 
into  the  woods,  half  a  mile  apart,  he  waved  his  handker 
chief  at  me,  and  I  waved  mine  at  him,  and  we  plunged  into 
the  forest. 

After  riding  for  an  hour  or  so,  alone  in  the  woods,  think 
ing  up  a  good  lie  to  tell  about  where  I  had  been,  and  what  I 
had  been  doing,  I  heard  horses  neighing,  and  presently  I 


34  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

came  upon  my  regiment,  just  starting  out  to  hunt  me  up. 
The  colonel  looked  at  me  and  said,  "Kill  the  fat  prodigal, 
the  calf  has  got  back." 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  35 


CHAPTER 

I  DESCRIBE  A  DEADLY  ENCOUNTER— AM  CONGRATULATED  AS  A 
WARRIOR  WITH  A  BIG  "W"  —  THE  CHAPLAIN  GIVES  GOOD 
ADVICE— I  ATTEND  SURGEON'S  CALL— CASTOR  OIL  OUT  OP 
A  DIRTY  BOTTLE— BACK  TO  THE  CHAPLAIN'S  TENT— I  AM 
WOUNDED  IN  THE  CANTEEN. 

The  last  chapter  of  this  history  left  me  facing  my  regi 
ment,  which  had  started  out  to  hunt  me  up,  after  my 
terrible  fight  with  that  Confederate.  The  colonel  rode  up 
to  me  and  shook  me  by  the  hand,  and  congratulated  me, 
and  the  major  and  adjutant  said  they  had  never  expected 
to  see  me  alive,  and  the  soldiers  looked  at  me  as  one  re 
turned  from  the  grave,  and  from  what  I  could  gather  by 
the  looks  of  the  boys,  I  was  something  of  a  hero,  even 
before  I  had  told  my  story.  The  colonel  asked  me  what 
had  become  of  all  the  baggage  I  had  on  my  saddle  when  I 
went  away,  and  I  told  him  that  I  had  thrown  ballast  over 
board  all  over  the  Southern  Confederacy,  when  I  was 
charging  the  enemy,  because  I  found  my  horse  drew  too 
much  water  for  a  long  run.  He  said  something  about  my 
being  a  Horse-Marine,  and  sent  me  back  to  my  company, 
telling  me  that  when  we  got  into  camp  that  night  he  would 
send  for  me  and  I  could  tell  the  story  of  my  capture  and 
escape.  I  rode  back  into  my  company,  and  you  never  saw 
such  a  change  of  sentiment  towards  a  raw  recruit,  as  there 
was  towards  me,  and  they  asked  me  questions  about  my 
first  fight.  The  corporal  who  had  placed  me  on  picket,  and 
stampeded  at  the  first  fire,  was  unusually  gracious  to  me, 


36  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

and  said  when  he  saw  a  hundred  and  fifty  rebels  conw 
charging  down  the  road,  yelling  and  firing,  he  knew  it  was 
no  place  for  his  small  command,  so  he  lit  out.  He  said  he 
supposed  of  course  I  was  shot  all  to  pieces.  I  didn't  tell 
him  that  it  was  me  that  did  all  the  yelling,  and  that  there 
was  only  one  rebel,  and  that  he  was  perfectly  harmless,  but 
I  told  him  that  he  miscalculated  the  number  of  the  enemy, 
as  there  were,  all  told,  at  least  five  hundred,  and  that  I 
had  killed  fourteen  that  I  knew  of,  besides  a  number  had 
been  taken  away  in  ambulances,  wounded.  The  boys 
opened  their  eyes,  and  nothing  was  too  good  for  me  during 
that  march.  We  went  into  camp  in  the  pine  woods  late  in 
the  afternoon,  and  after  supper  the  colonel  sent  for  me, 
and  I  went  to  his  tent.  All  the  officers  were  there,  and  as 
many  soldiers  as  dared  crowd  around.  The  colonel  said 
the  corporal  had  reported  where  he  left  me,  and  how  the 
enemy  had  charged  in  force,  and  he  supposed  that  I  had 
been  promptly  killed.  That  he  felt  that  he  could  not  hold 
his  position  against  such  immense  odds,  so  he  had  fallen 
back  slowly,  firing  as  he  did  so,  until  the  place  was  too 
hot  for  him,  and  now  he  wanted  to  hear  my  story.  I  told 
the  colonel  that  I  was  new  at  the  business,  and  may  be  I 
did  not  use  the  best  judgment  in  the  world,  by  remaining 
to  fight  against  such  odds,  but  I  meant  well.  I  told  him 
I  did  not  wish  to  complain  of  the  corporal,  who  no  doubt 
was  an  able  fighter,  but  it  did  seem  to  me  that  he  ought  at 
least  to  have  waited  till  the  battle  had  actually  com 
menced.  I  said  that  the  first  charge,  which  stampeded 
the  corporal  and  his  men,  was  not  a  marker  to  what  took 
place  afterwards.  I  said  when  the  enemy  first  appeared,  I 
dismounted,  got  behind  a  tree,  and  poured  a  murderous 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  37 

fire  into  the  ranks  of  the  rebels,  and  that  they  fell  all 
around.  I  could  not  tell  how  many  were  killed,  but  prob 
ably  ten,  as  I  fired  eleven  shots  from  my  carbine,  and  I 
usually  calculated  on  missing  one  out  of  ten,  when  shoot 
ing  at  a  mark.  Then  they  fell  back  and  I  mounted  my 
horse  and  rode  to  their  right  flank  and  poured  it  into  them 
red  hot  from  my  revolver,  and  that  I  saw  several  fall  from 
their  horses,  when  they  stampeded,  and  I  drew  my  saber 
and  charged  them,  and  after  cutting  down  several,  I  was 
surrounded  by  the  whole  rebel  army  and  captured.  They 
tied  me  to  the  wheel  of  a  gun  carriage,  and  after  trying  to 
pump  me  as  to  the  number  of  men  I  had  fighting  against 
them,  they  left  me  to  hold  a  council  of  war,  when  I  untied 
myself,  mounted  my  horse,  and  cut  my  way  out,  and  took 
to  the  woods.  I  apologized  to  the  colonel  for  running 
away  from  the  enemy,  but  told  him  it  seemed  to  me,  after 
the  number  I  had  killed,,  and  the  length  of  time  I  had 
held  them  at  bay,  it  was  no  more  than  right  to  save  my 
own  life,  as  I  had  use  for  it  in  my  business.  During  my 
recital  of  the  lie  I  had  made  up,  the  officers  and  soldiers 
stood  around  with  mouths  open,  and  when  I  had  concluded 
my  story,  there  was  silence  for  a  moment,  when  the  colonel 
stepped  forward  and  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  in  a  few 
well  chosen  remarks  congratulated  me  on  my  escape,  and 
thanked  me  for  so  valiantly  standing  my  ground  against 
such  fearful  odds,  and  he  said  I  had  reflected  credit  upon 
my  regiment,  and  that  hereafter  I  would  be  classed  as  a 
veteran  instead  of  a  recruit.  He  said  he  had  never  known 
a  man  to  come  right  from  the  paths  of  peace,  and  develop 
into  a  warrior  with  a  big  "  W"  in  so  short  a  timfe,  T'h* 
other  officers  congratulated  me*  and  the  soldiers  said  I  wa» 


88  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

a  bully  boy»  The  colonel  treated  to  some  commissary 
whisky,  and  then  the  business  of  the  evening  commenced, 
which  I  found  to  be  draw  poker.  I  sat  around  for  some 
time  watching  the  officers  play  poker,  when  the  chaplain, 
frho  was  a  nice  little  pious  man,  asked  me  to  step  outs'de 
the  tent,  as  he  wished  to  converse  with  me.  I  went  ovt 
into  the  moonlight  with  him,  and  he  took  me  away  fror 
the  tents,  under  a  tree,  and  told  me  he  had  been  much  i. 
terested  in  my  story.  I  thanked  him,  and  said  I  had  been 
as  brief  as  possible.  He  said,  <f  I  was  interested,  because 
I  used  to  be  something  of  a  liar  myself,  before  I  reformed, 
and  studied  for  the  ministry."  It  occurred  to  me  that  pos 
sibly  the  chaplain  did  not  believe  my  simple  tale,  and  I 
asked  him  if  he  doubted  my  story.  "  That  is  about  the 
size  of  it,"  says  he.  I  told  him  I  was  sorry  I  had  not  told 
the  story  in  such  a  manner  that  he  would  believe  it,  be 
cause  I  valued  the  opinion  of  the  chaplain  above  all  others. 
He  said  he  had  known  a  good  many  star  liars  in  his  time, 
some  that  had  national  reputations,  but  he  had  never  seen 
one  that  could  hold  a  candle  to  me  in  telling  a  colossal  lie, 
or  aggregation  of  lies,  and  tell  them  so  easy.  I  thanked 
him  for  his  good  opinion,  and  told  him  that  I  flattered 
myself  that  for  a  recruit,  right  fresh  from  the  people,  who 
had  never  had  any  experience  as  a  military  liar,  I  had 
done  pretty  well.  He  said  I  certainly  had,  and  he  wa*» 
glad  to  make  my  acquaintance.  I  asked  him  to  promise 
not  to  give  it  away  to  the  other  officers,  which  he  did, 
and  then  I  told  him  the  whole  story,  as  it  was,  and  that  I 
was  probably  the  biggest  coward  that  ever  lived,  and  that 
1  was  only  afraid  that  my  story  of  blood-letting  would 
encourage  the  officers  to  be  constantly  putting  me  into 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  89 

places  of  danger,  which  I  did  not  want  to  be  in.  I  told 
him  I  believed  this  war  could  be  ended  without  killing  any 
more  men,  and  cited  the  fact  that  I  had  been  a  soldier 
nearly  forty-eight  hours,  and  nobody  had  been  killed,  and 
the  enemy  was  on  the  run.  I  told  the  chaplain  that  if 
there  was  one  thing  I  didn't  want  to  see,  it  was  blood. 
Others  might  have  an  insatiable  appetite  for  gore,  but  I 
didn't  want  any  at  all.  I  was  willing  to  do  anything  for 
this  government  but  fight ;  and  if  he  could  recommend  to 
me  any  line  of  action  by  which  I  could  pull  through  with 
out  being  sent  out  to  do  battle  with  strangers  who  could 
shoot  well,  I  should  consider  it  a  favor.  AVhat  I  wanted 
was  a  soft  job,  where  there  was  no  danger.  The  chaplain 
looked  thoughtful  a  moment,  and  then  took  me  over  to  his 
tent,  where  he  opened  a  bottle  of  blackberry  brandy.  He 
took  a  small  dose,  after  placing  his  hand  on  his  stomach 
and  groaning  a  little.  He  asked  me  if  I  did  not  sometimes 
have  a  pain  under  my  vest.  I  told  him  I  never  had  a  pain 
anywhere.  Then  he  sp^.d  I  couldn't  have  any  brandy.  He 
said  the  brandy  came  from  the  sanitary  commission,  and 
was  controlled  entirely  by  the  chaplains  of  the  different 
/egiments,  and  the  instructions  were  to  only  use  it  in  case 
of  sickness.  He  said  a  great  many  of  the  boys  had  pains 
regularly,  and  came  to  him  for  relief.  He  smacked  his 
lips  and  said  if  I  felt  any  pain  coming  on,  to  help  myself 
to  the  brandy.  It  is  singular  how  a  pain  will  sometimes 
come  on  when  you  least  expect  it.  It  was  not  a  minute 
before  I  began  to  feel  a  small  pain,  not  bigger  than  a 
manr  -:an^..  s^  as  -  looked  at  the  bottle  the  pain  in 
creased,  and  I  liaa  :o  "ell  the  cnapiain  that  I  must  have 
relief  before  it  was  everlastingly  too  *ate,  so  ae  poureu  out 


40  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

a  dose  of  brandy  for  me.  I  could  see  that  I  was  becoming 
a  veteran  very  fast,  as  I  could  work  the  chaplain  for  sani 
tary  stores  pretty  early  in  the  game.  Well,  the  chaplain 
and  me  had  pains  off  and  on,  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  be 
came  good  friends.  He  told  me  of  quite  a  number  of 
methods  of  shirking  active  duty,  such  as  being  detailed  to 
take  care  of  baggage,  acting  as  orderly,  and  going  to  sur 
geon's  call.  He  said  if  a  man  went  to  surgeon's  call,  the 
doctor  would  report  him  sick,  and  he  could  not  be  sent  out 
on  duty.  The  next  day  we  went  back  to  our  post,  where 
the  regiment  was  stationed,  and  where  they  had  barracks, 
that  they  wintered  in,  and  remained  there  several  weeks, 
drilling.  I  was  drilled  in  mounting  and  dismounting,  and 
soon  got  so  I  could  mount  a  horse  without  climbing  on  to 
him  from  a  fence.  But  the  drill  became  irksome,  and  I 
decided  to  try  the  chaplain's  suggestion  about  going  to 
surgeon's  call.  I  got  in  line  with  about  twenty  other  sol 
diers,  and  we  marched  over  to  the  burgeon's  quarters.  I 
supposed  the  doctor  would  ta&e  each  soldier  into  a  private 
room,  feel  of  his  pulse,  look  at  his  tongue,  and  say  that 
what  he  needed  was  rest,  and  give  him  some  powders  to  be 
taken  in  wafers,  or  in  sugar.  But  all  he  did  was  to  say 
"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  and  the  sick  man  would  tell  him, 
when  the  doctor  would  tell  his  assistant  to  give  the  man 
something,  and  pass  on  to  the  next.  I  was  the  last  one  to 
be  served,  and  the  interview  was  about  as  follows  : 

Doc.— What's  the  matter?''" 

Me  —  Bilious. 

Doc. —  Run  out  your  tongue.  Take  a  swallow  out  of 
the  black  bottle. 

That  seems  very  simple,  indeed,  but  it  nearly  killed 


'  GREAT 


BOW  IT  DID  TASTE/ 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  41 

me.  When  he  told  me  to  run  out  my  tongue,  I  run  out 
perhaps  six  inches  of  the  lower  end  of  it,  the  doctor  glanced 
at  it  as  though  it  was  nothing  to  him  anyway,  and  then  he 
told  me  to  take  a  swallow  out  of  the  bottle.  In  all  my 
life  I  had  never  taken  four  doses  of  medicine,  and  when  I 
did  the  medicine  was  disguised  in  preserves  or  something. 
The  hospital  steward  handed  me  the  bottle  that  a  dozen 
other  sick  soldiers  had  drank  out  of,  and  it  was  sticky  all 
around  the  top,  and  contained  something  that  looked  like 
castor  oil,  for  greasing  a  buggy.  He  told  me  to  take  a 
good  big  swallow,  and  I  tried  to  do  so.  Talk  about  the 
suffering  brought  on  by  the  war,  it  seems  to  me  nobody 
ever  suffered  as  I  did,  trying  to  drink  a  swallow  of  that 
castor  oil  out  of  a  two  quart  bottle,  that  was  dirty.  It 
run  so  slow  that  it  seemed  an  age  before  I  got  enough  to 
swallow,  and  then  it  seemed  another  age  before  the  oil 
could  pass  a  given  point  in  my  neck.  And  great  Caesar's 
ghost  how  it  did  taste.  I  think  it  went  down  my  neck, 
and  I  just  had  strength  enough  to  ask  the  steward  to  give 
me  something  to  take  the  taste  out  of  my  mouth.  He 
handed  me  a  blue  pill.  0,  I  could  have  killed  him.  I 
rushed  to  the  chaplain's  tent  and  took  a  drink  of  black 
berry  brandy,  and  my  life  was  saved,  but  for  three  years 
after  that  I  was  never  sick  enough  to  get  farther  than  the 
chaplain's  quarters. 

I  suppose  the  meanest  trick  that  was  ever  played  on  a 
raw  recruit,  was  played  on  me  while  we  were  in  camp  at 
that  place.  It  seemed  to  me  that  some  of  the  boys  got 
jealous  of  me,  because  I  had  become  a  hero,  accidentally. 
May  be  some  of  them  did  not  believe  I  had  killed  as  many 
of  the  enemy  as  I  had  owned  up  to  having  killed.  Any- 


42  HOW   PKIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

way  every  little  while  some  soldier  would  say  that  he 
thought  it  was  a  mean  man  that  would  go  out  and  kill  a  , 
lot  of  rebels  and  not  bury  them.  He  said  a  man  that  would 
do  that  was  a  regular  pot-hunter,  who  killed  game  and  left 
it  on  the  ground  to  spoil.  They  made  lots  of  such  un 
charitable  remarks,  but  I  did  not  pay  much  attention  to 
to  them.  I  had  a  tent-mate  who  took  a  great  interest  in 
me,  and  he  said  no  soldier's  life  was  safe  who  did  not  wear 
a  breast-plate,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  did  not  bring  any 
breast-plate  with  me.  I  told  him  I  never  heard  of  a  breast 
plate,  and  asked  him  what  it  was.  He  said  it  was  a  vest 
made  of  the  finest  spring  steel,  that  could  be  worn  under 
the  clothes,  which  was  so  strong  that  a  bullet  could  not 
penetrate  it.  He  supposed  of  course  I  had  one,  when  he 
heard  of  the  fight  I  had,  and  said  none  of  the  old  boys 
would  go  into  a  fight  without  one,  as  it  covered  the  vital 
parts,  and  saved  many  a  life.  I  bit  like  a  bass.  If  there 
was  anything  I  wanted  more  than  a  discharge,  it  was  a 
breast-plate.  If  the  chaplain  should  succeed  in  getting  me 
a  soft  job,  where  there  was  no  danger,  I  could  get  along  with 
out  my  breast-plate,  but  there  was  no  sure  thing  about  the 
chaplain,  so  I  asked  the  soldier  where  I  could  get  a  breast 
plate.  He  said  the  quartermaster  used  to  issue  them,  but 
he  didn't  have  any  on  hand  now,  but  he  said  he  knew 
tyhere  there  was  one  that  once  belonged  to  a  soldier  who 
was  killed,  and  he  thought  he  could  get  it  for  me.  I  asked 
him  how  it  happened  that  the  soldier  was  killed,  when  he 
had  a  breast-plate,  and  he  told  me  the  man  was  killed  by 
eating  green  peaches.  Of  course  I  couldn't  expect  a  breast 
plate  to  save  me  from  the  effects  of  eating  unripe  fruit, 
and  J  felt  that  if  it  would  save  me  from  bullets  it  would  be 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  43 

worth  all  it  cost,  so  I  told  the  soldier  to  get  it  for  me. 
That  evening  he  brought  it  around,  and  he  helped  me  put 
it  on.  I  learned  afterwards  that  it  was  an  old  breast-plate 
that  an  officer  had  brought  to  the  regiment  when  the  war 
broke  out,  and  that  it  had  been  played  on  raw  recruits  for 
two  years.  After  I  had  got  it  on,  the  soldier  suggested 
that  we  go  out  with  several  other  dare  devils,  and  run  the 
guard  and  go  down  town  and  play  billiards,  snd  have  a 
jolly  time.  I  asked  him  if  the  guard  would  not  shoot  at 
us,  and  he  said  the  guards  would  be  all  right,  and  if  they 
did  shoot  they  would  shoot  at  the  breast-plates,  as  all  the 
boys  had  them  on.  So  about  six  of  us  sneaked  through 
the  guards,  went  to  town  and  had  a  big  time,  and  came 
back  along  towards  morning,  each  with  a  canteen  of 
whisky.  It  was  not  easy  getting  back  inside  the  lines,  as 
the  moon  was  shining,  but  we  got  by  the  guards,  and  then 
my  friends  suggested  that  we  take  our  breast-plates  off  and 
put  them  on  behind  us,  as  the  guards,  if  they  shot  at  all, 
would  be  firing  in  our  rear.  I  took  mine  off  and  put  it  on 
behind  my  pants,  and  just  then  somebody  fired  a  gun,  and 
the  boys  said  f '  run/'  and  I  started  ahead,  and  the  firing 
continued,  and  about  every  jump  I  could  hear  and  feel 
something  striking  my  breast-plate  behind,  which  seemed 
to  me  to  be  bullets,,  and  I  was  glad  I  had  the  breast-plate 
on,  though  afterwards  I  found  that  the  boys  behind  me 
wore  firing  off  their  revolvers  in  the  air,  and  throwing 
small  stones  at  my  breast-plate.  Presently  a  bullet,  as  I 
supposed,  struck  me  in  the  back  above  the  breast-plate, 
and  I  could  feel  blood  trickling  down  my  back,  and  I 
knew  I  was  wounded.  0,  I  hankered  for  gore,  before  en 
listing,  and  while  editing  a  paper,  and  now  I  had  got  it, 


44  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE    \V.  PECK 

got  gore  till  I  couldn't  rest.  The  blood  run  down  my 
side,  down  my  leg,  into  my  boot,  and  I  could  feel  I  was 
wading  in  my  own  blood.  And  great  heaven's,  how  it  diu 
smell.  I  had  never  smelled  blood  before,  that  I  knew  of. 
and  I  thought  it  had  the  most  peculiar,  pungent,  intox 
icating  odor.  I  ran  towards  my  quarters  as  fast  as  possible, 
fainting  almost,  from  imaginary  loss  of  blood,  and  finally 
rushed  into  my  tent,  threw  myself  on  my  bunk  and  called 
loudly  for  the  doctor  and  chaplain,  and  then  I  fainted. 
When  I  came  to  I  was  surrounded  by  the  doctor,  and  a  lot 
of  the  boys,  all  laughing,  and  the  chaplain  was  trying  to  say 
something  pious,  while  trying  to  keep  a  straight  face.  "Have 
you  succeeded  in  staunching  the  blood,  doc?"  I  asked,  in  a 
trembling  voice.  He  said  the  blood  was  quite  staunch,  but 
the  whisky  could  never  be  saved.  I  did  not  know  what  he 
meant,  and  I  turned  to  the  chaplain  and  asked  him  if  he 
wouldn't  be  kind  enough  to  say  something  appropriate  to  the 
occasion.  I  told  him  I  had  been  a  bad  man,  had  lied  some, 
as  he  well  knew,  and  had  been  guilty  of  things  that  would 
bar  me  out  of  the  angel  choir, but  that  if  he  had  any  influence 
at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  could  manage  to  sneak  me  in 
under  the  canvass  anyway,  he  could  have  the  balance  of 
my  bounty,  and  all  the  pay  that  might  be  coming  to  me. 
The  chaplain  held  up  the  breast- plate  that  had  been  re 
moved  by  kind  hands,  from  the  back  portion  of  my  person, 
and  said  I  had  better  take  that  along  with  me,  as  it  would 
be  handy  to  wear  when  I  wanted  to  stand  with  my  back  to 
the  fire  in  hades.  I  could  not  understand  why  the  good 
man  should  joke  me,  on  my  death  bed,  and  I  rolled  over 
with  my  back  to  the  wall,  to  weep,  unobserved,  and  I  felt 
the  blood  sticking  to  my  clothes  and  person,  and  I  asked 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION".  45 

the  doctor  why  he  did  not  dress  my  wound.  He  said  he 
should  have  to  send  the  wound  to  tlie  tin-shop  to  be  dressed, 
and  then  they  all  laughed.  This  made  me  indignant,  and 
I  turned  over  and  faced  the  crowd,  and  asked  them  if  they 
had  no  hearts,  that  they  could  thus  mock  at  a  dying  man. 
The  doctor  held  up  my  canteen  with  a  hole  in  it,  made  by 
a  stone  thrown  by  one  of  my  companions,  and  said,  "  You 
d— d  fool,  you  are  not  wounded.  Somebody  busted  your 
canteen,  and  the  whiskey  run  down  your  leg  and  into  your 
boot,  and  you/  like  an  idiot,  thought  it  was  your  life  blood 
ebbing  away.  Couldn't  you  tell  that  it  was  whiskey  by  the 
smell  ?"  I  felt  of  myself,  where  I  thought  I  was  wounded, 
and  couldn't  find  any  hole,  and  then  I  took  off  my  boot, 
and  emptied  the  whisky  out,  and  felt  stronger,  and  finally 
t  got  up,  and  the  boys  went  away  laughing  at  me,  leaving 
the  chaplain,  who  was  kind  enough  to  tell  me  that  of  all 
the  raw  recruits  that  had  ever  come  to  the  regiment,  he 
thought  I  was  the  biggest  idiot  of  the  lot,  to  let  the  boys 
play  that  ancient  breast-plate  and  canteen  joke  on  me.  I 
asked  him  if  the  boys  didn't  all  wear  breast-plates,  and  he 
said  "naw! "  He  told  me  that  was  the  only  breast-plate  in 
the  whole  Department  of  the  Gulf,  and  it  was  kept  to  play 
on  recruits,  and  that  I  must  keep  it  until  a  new  recruit 
came  that  was  green  enough  to  allow  the  boys  to  do  him 
up.  So  I  hid  the  breast-plate  under  my  bunk,  and  went 
to  bed  and  tried  to  dream  out  some  method  of  getting  even 
with  my  persecutors,  while  the  chaplain  went  out,  after 
offering  to  hold  himself  in  readiness,  day  or  night,  to  come 
and  pray  for  me,  if  I  was  wounded  in  the  canteen  any 
more. 


HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


CHAPTER  IV. 

I  YEARN  FOR  A  FURLOUGH— -I  INTERVIEW  THE  GENERAL— I  AM 
DETAILED  TO  CARRY  A  RAIL — I  MAKE  A  HORSE-TRADE  WITH 
THE  CHAPLAIN  —  I  AM  PUT  IN  CHARGE  OP  A  FUNERAL. 

I  had  now  been  fighting  the  battles  of  my  country  for 
two  weeks,  and  felt  that  I  needed  rest,  and  one  day  I 
became  so  homesick  that  it  did  seem  as  though  it  would 
kill  me.  Including  the  week  it  had  taken  me  to  get  from 
home  to  my  regiment,  three  weeks  had  elapsed  since  I  bid 
good-bye  to  my  friends,  and  I  wanted  to  go  home.  I 
would  lay  awake  nights  and  think  of  people  at  home  and 
wonder  what  they  were  doing,  and  if  they  were  laying 
awake  nights  thinking  of  me,  or  caring  whether  I  was 
alive,  or  buried  in  the  swamps  of  the  South.  It  was  about 
the  time  of  year  when  at  home  we  always  went  off  shoot 
ing,  and  I  thought  how  much  better  it  was  to  go  off  shoot 
ing  ducks  and  geese,  and  chickens,  that  could  not  shoot 
back,  than  to  be  hunting  bold,  bloodthirsty  Confederates, 
that  were  just  as  liable  to  hunt  us,  and  who  could  kill, 
with  great  ease.  I  thought  of  a  pup  I  had  at  home  that 
was  just  the  right  age  to  train,  and  that  he  would  be 
spoiled  if  he  was  not  trained  that  season.  0,  how  I  did 
want  to  train  that  pup.  The  news  that  one  of  my  com 
rades  had  been  granted  a  furlough,  after  three  years'  ser 
vice,  and  that  he  was  going  home,  made  me  desperate,  and 
I  dreamed  that  I  had  waylaid  and  murdered  the  fortunate 
and  gone  bpm$  on  hi§  furlough.  The  idea  of  get- 


PUT  DOWN-  THE   REBELLION.  47 

ting  a  furlough  was  the  one  idea  in  my  mind,  and  the  next 
morning  as  I  took  my  horse  to  the  veterinary  surgeon  for 
treatment,*  I  had  a  talk  with  the  horse  doctor  about  the 
possibilities  of  getting  a  furlough.  I  had  known  him 
before  the  war,  when  he  kept  a  livery  stable,  and  as  I 
owed  him  a  small  livery  bill,  I  thought  he  would  give  it  to 
me  straight.  The  horse  doctor  had  his  sleeves  rolled  up, 
and  was  holding  a  horse's  tongue  in  one  hand  while  he 
poured  some  medicine  down  the  animal's  throat  out  of  a 
bottle  with  the  other  hand,  which  made  me  sorry  for  the 
horse,  as  I  remembered  my  experience  at  surgeon's  call,  i£ 
drinking  a  dose  of  castor  oil  out  of  a  bottle,  and  I  was 
mean  enough  to  be  glad  they  played  it  on  horses  as  well  as 
the  soldiers.  The  horse  doctor  returned  the  horse's  tongue 
to  it's  mouth,  kicked  the  animal  in  the  ribs,  turned  and 
wiped  his  hands  on  a  bale  of  hay,  and  said  : 

"Well,  George,  to  get  a  furlough  a  man  has  got  to 
have  plenty  of  gall,  especially  a  man  who  has  only  been  to 
the  front  a  couple  of  weeks.  There  is  no  use  making  an 
application  in  the  regular  way,  to  your  captain,  have  him 
endorse  it  and  send  it  to  regimental  headquarters,  and  so 
on  to  brigade  headquarters,  because  you  would  never  hear 
of  it  again.  My  idea  would  be  for  you  to  go  right  to  the 

*I  neglected  to  say,  in  my  account  of  the  battle  at  the  race-track,  that 
when  firing  with  my  revolver,  at  my  friend  the  rebel,  I  put  one  bullet-hole 
through  the  right  ear  of  my  horse.  I  was  so  excited  at  the  time  that  I  did 
not  k?iow  it,  and  only  discovered  it  a  week  later  when  currying  off  my 
horse,  which  I  made  a  practice  of  doing  once  a  week,  with  a  piece  of  barrel- 
stave,  when  I  noticed  the  horse's  ear  was  swelled  up  about  as  big  as  a  canvas 
ham.  I  took  him  to  the  horse  doctor,  who  reduced  the  swelling  so  we  could 
find  the  hole  through  the  horse's  ear,  and  the  horse  doctor  tied  a  blue  ribbon 
in  the  hole.  He  said  the  blue  ribbon  would  help  heal  the  sore,  but  later  I 
found  that  he  had  put  the  ribbon  in  the  ear  to  call  attention  to  my  poor 
marksmanship,  and  the  boys  got  so  they  ma,de  comments  and  laughed  at  ra0 
every  time  I  appeared  with  the  horse. 


48  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

general  eommanding  the  division,  and  tell  him  you  have 
got  to  go  home.  But  you  mustn't  go  crawling  to  him,  and 
whining.  He  is  a  quick-tempered  man,  and  he  hates  a. 
coward.  Go  to  him  and  talk  familiar  with  him,  and  act 
as  though  you  had  always  associated  with  him,  and  slap 
him  on  the  shoulder,  and  make  yourself  at  home.  Just 
make  up  a  good,  plausible  story,  and  give  it  to  him,  and  if 
he  seems  irritated,  give  him  to  understand  that  he  can't 
frighten  you,  and  just  as  likely  as  not  he  will  give  you  a 
furlough.  I  don't  say  he  will,  mind  you,  but  it  would  be 
just  like  him.  But  he  does  like  to  be  treated  familiar  like, 
by  the  boys." 

I  thanked  the  horse  doctor  and  went  away  with  my 
horse,  resolved  to  have  a  furlough  or  know  the  reason  why. 
The  general's  headquarters  were  about  half  a  mile  from  our 
camp,  and  after  drill  that  morning  I  went  to  see  him.  I 
had  seen  him  several  times,  at  the  colonel's  headquarters, 
and  he  always  seemed  mad  about  something,  and  I  had 
thought  he  was  about  the  Grossest  looking  man  I  ever  saw, 
but  if  there  was  any  truth  in  what  the  horse  doctor  had 
told  me,  he  was  easily  reached  if  a  man  went  at  him  right, 
and  I  resolved  that  if  pure,  unadulterated  cheek  and  mon 
umental  gall  would  accomplish  anything,  I  would  have  a 
furlough  before  night,  for  a  homesicker  man  never  lived 
than  I  was.  I  went  up  to  the  general's  tent  and  a  guard 
halted  me  and  asked  me  what  I  wanted,  and  I  said  I 
wanted  to  see  "his  nibs,"  and  I  walked  right  by  the 
guard,  who  seemed  stunned  by  my  cheek.  I  saw  the  gen 
eral  in  his  tent,  with  his  coat  off,  writing,  and  he  did  look 
savage.  Without  taking  off  my  hat,  or  saluting  him,  I 
went  right  up  to  him  and  sat  down  on  the  end  of  a  trunk 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  41 

that  was  in  the  tent,  and  with  a  tremendous  effort  to  look 
familiar,  I  said : 

"  Hello,  Boss,  writing  to  your  girl  ?  " 

I  have  seen  a  good  many  men  in  my  time  who  werl 
pretty  mad,  but  I  have  never  seen  a  man  who  appeared  to 
be  as  mad  as  the  general  did.  He  was  a  regular  army  offi 
cer,  I  found  afterwards,  and  hated  a  volunteer  as  he  did 
poison.  He  turned  red  in  the  face  and  pale,  and  I 
thought  he  frothed  at  the  mouth,  but  may  be  he  didn't. 
He  seemed  to  try  to  control  himself,  and  said  through  his 
clenched  teeth,  in  a  sarcastic  manner,  I  thought,  in  imita 
tion  of  a  ring  master  in  a  circus : 

"  What  will  the  little  lady  have  next  ?  " 

I  had  been  in  circuses  myself,  and  when  the  general 
said  that  I  answered  the  same  as  a  clown  always  does,  and, 
I  said  : 

"  The  banners,  my  lord." 

I  thought  he  would  be  pleased  at  my  joking  with  him, 
but  he  looked  around  as  though  he  was  seeking  a  revolver 
or  a  saber  with  which  to  kill  me.  Finally  he  said : 

"What  do  you  want,  man  ?" 

It  was  a  little  tough  to  be  called  plain  "  man,"  but  I 
swallowed  it.  I  made  up  my  mind  it  was  time  to  act,  so  I 
stood  up,  put  my  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  general 
familiarly,  and  said : 

"  The  fact  is,  old  man,  I  want  a  furlough  to  go  home. 
I  have  got  business  that  demands  my  attention;  I  am  sick 
of  this  inactivity  in  camp,  and  besides  the  shooting  season 
is  just  coming  on  at  home,  and  I  have  got  a  setter  pup 
that  will  be  spoiled  if  he  is  not  trained  this  season.  I 
ciown.  here  two  weeks  ago,  to  help  put  down  the 


60  HPW  PKIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

rebellion;  but  all  we  have  done  since  I  got  here  is  to 
monkey  around  drilling  and  cleaning  off  horses,  while  tne 
officers  play  poker  for  red  chips.  Let  me  go  home  till  the 
poker  season  is  over,  and  I  will  be  back  in  time  for  the 
fall  fighting.  What  do  you  say,  old  apoplexy.  Can  I  go  ?  " 
I  do  not  now,  and  never  did  know,  how  I  got  out  of 
the  general's  tent,  whether  he  kicked  me  out,  or  threw  his 
trunk  at  me,  or  whether  there  was  an  explosion,  but  when 
I  got  outside  there  were  two  soldiers  trying  to  untangle  me 
from  the  guy  ropes  of  the  general's  tent,  his  wash  basin 
and  pail  of  water  were  tipped  over,  and  a  cord  that  was 
strung  outside  with  a  lot  of  uniforms,  shirts,  sabers,  etc., 
had  fallen  down,  and  the  general  was  walking  up  and  down 
his  tent  in  an  excited  manner,  calling  me  an  escaped  luna 
tic,  and  telling  the  guards  to  tie  me  up  by  the  thumbs,  and 
buck  and  gag  me.  They  led  me  away,  and  from  their  con 
versation  I  concluded  I  had  committed  an  unpardonable 
offense,  and  would  probably  be  hung,  though  I  couldn't 
feee  as  I  had  done  much  more  than  the  horse  doctor  told 
me  to.  Finally  the  officer  of  the  day  came  along  and  told 
the  guards  to  get  a  rail  and  make  me  carry  it.  So  they 
got  a  rail  and  put  it  on  my  shoulder,  and  I  carried  it  up 
and  down  the  camp,  as  a  punishment  for  insulting  the 
general.  I  thought  they  picked  out  a  pretty  heavy  rail, 
but  I  carried  it  the  best  I  could  for  an  hour,  when  I  threw 
it  down  and  told  the  guards  I  didn't  enlist  to  carry  rails. 
If  the  putting  down  of  this  rebellion  depended  on  carry 
ing  fence  rails  around  the  Southern  Confederacy,  and  I 
had  to  carry  the  rails,  the  aforesaid  rebellion  never  would 
be  put  down.  I  said  I  would  fight  if  I  had  to,  and  be  a 
hostler,  and  cook  my  own  food,  and  sleep  on  the  ground, 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  51 

and  try  to  earn  my  thirteen  dollars  a  month,  but  there 
must  be  a  line  drawn  somewhere,  and  I  drew  it  at  trans 
porting  fences  around  the  sunny  South.  The  guards  were 
inclined  to  laugh  at  my  determination,  but  they  said  I 
could  carry  the  rail  or  be  tied  up  by  the  thumbs;  and  I 
said  they  could  go  ahead,  but  if  they  hurt  me  I  would 
bring  suit  against  the  government.  They  were  fixing  to 
tie  me  up  when  the  colonel  of  my  regiment  rode  up  to  see 
the  general,  and  he  got  the  guards  to  let  up  on  me  till 
he  could  see  the  general.  The  general  sent  for  me  after 
the  colonel  had  talked  with  him,  and  they  called  me  in 
and  asked  me  how  I  happened  to  be  so  fresh  with  the 
general;  and  I  told  them  about  the  horse  doctor's  advice 
as  to  how  to  get  a  furlough;  and  then  they  both  laughed, 
and  said  I  owed  the  horse  doctor  one,  and  I  must  get 
even  with  him.  The  colonel  told  the  general  who  I  was, 
that  he  had  known  me  before  the  war,  and  that  I  was  all 
right  only  a  little  green,  and  that  the  boys  were  having 
fun  with  me.  The  colonel  told  the  general  about  my  first 
fight  the  first  day  of  my  service,  and  how  I  had,  single- 
handed,  put  to  flight  a  large  number  of  rebels,  and  the 
general  got  up  and  shook  hands  with  me,  and  said  he  for 
gave  me  for  my  impertinence,  and  gave  me  some  advice 
about  letting  the  boys  play  it  on  me,  and  said  I  might  go 
back  to  my  company.  He  was  all  smiles,  and  insisted  on 
my  taking  a  drink  with  himself  and  the  colonel.  When  I 
was  about  leaving  his  tent,  I  turned  to  him  and  said: 

" Then  I  don't  get  any  furlough?" 

"  Not  till  the  cruel  war  is  over,"  said  the  general,  with 
a  laugh,  and  1  went  away. 

The  guards  treated  me  like  a  gentleman  when  they 


52  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

saw  me  taking  a  drink  with  the  general,  and  I  went  back 
to  my  regiment,  resolved  not  to  go  home,  and  to  get  even 
with  the  horse  doctor  for  causing  me  to  make  a  fool  of 
myself.  However,  I  was  glad  I  visited  the  general,  for, 
after  getting  acquainted  with  him,  he  seemed  a  real  nice 
man,  and  he  kept  a  better  article  of  liquor  than  the  chap 
lain. 

For  several  days  nothing  occurred  that  was  worthy  of 
note,  except  that  the  chaplain  took  a  liking  to  my  horse, 
and  wanted  to  trade  a  mule  for  him.  I  never  did  like  a 
mule,  and  didn't  really  want  to  trade,  but  the  chaplain 
argued  his  case  so  eloquently  that  I  was  half  persuaded. 
He  said  the  horse  I  rode,  from  its  friskiness,  and  natural 
desire  to  "get  there,  Eli!"  would  eventually  get  me  killed, 
for  if  I  ever  got  in  sight  of  the  enemy  the  horse  would 
rush  to  the  front,  and  I  couldn't  hold  him.  He  said  he 
didn't  want  to  have  me  killed,  and  with  the  mule  there 
would  be  no  danger,  as  the  mule  knew  enough  to  keep 
away  from  a  fight.  The  chaplain  said  he  had  always  rode 
a  mule,  because  he  thought  the  natural  solemnity  of  a 
mule  was  in  better  keeping  with  a  pious  man,  but  lately 
he  had  begun  to  go  into  society  some,  in  the  town  near 
where  we  were  camped,  and  sometimes  had  to  preach  to 
different  regiments,  so  he  thought  he  ought  to  have  a 
horse  that  put  on  a  little  more  style,  and  as  he  knew  I 
wanted  an  animal  that  would  keep  as  far  from  the  foe  as 
possible,  and  not  lose  its  head  and  go  chasing  around  after 
rebels,  and  running  me  into  danger,  as  my  spiritual  ad 
viser  he  would  recommend  the  mule  to  me.  He  warranted 
the  mule  sound  in  every  particular,  and  as  a  mule  was 
worth  more  than  a  horse  he  would  trade  with  me  for  te», 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  53 

dollars  to  boot.  He  said  there  was  not  another  man  in  the 
regiment  he  would  trade  with  on  such  terms,  but  he  had 
taken  a  liking  to  me,  and  would  part  with  his  mule  to  me, 
though  it  broke  his  heart.  At  home  there  was  a  sentiment 
against  trading  horses  with  a  minister,  as  men  who  did  so 
always  got  beat,  but  1  thought  it  would  be  an  insult  to  the 
chaplain  to  refuse  to  trade,  when  he  seemed  to  be  working 
for  my  interests,  to  prevent  me  from  being  killed  in  a  fight 
by  the  actions  of  my  horse,  so  I  concluded  to  trade, 
though  it  seemed  to  me  that  if  I  couldn't  shoot  off  a  horse 
without  hitting  its  ears,  I  would  fill  a  mule's  ears  full  of 
bullets.  I  spoke  to  the  chaplain  about  that,  and  he  said 
there  was  no  danger,  because  whenever  fighting  com 
menced  the  mule  always  wore  his  ears  lopped  down  below 
the  line  of  fire.  He  said  the  mule  had  been  trained  to 
that,  and  I  would  find  him  a  great  comfort  in  time  of 
trial,  and  a  sympathizing  companion  always,  one  that  I 
would  become  attached  to.  I  told  him  there  was  one 
thing  I  wanted  to  know,  and  that  was  if  the  mule  would 
kick.  I  had  always  been  prejudiced  against  mules  because 
they  kicked.  He  said  he  knew  mules  had  been  traduced, 
and  that  their  reputations  were  not  good,  but  he  believed 
this  mule  was  as  free  from  the  habit  of  kicking  as  any 
mule  he  had  ever  met.  He  said  he  would  not  deny  that 
this  mule  could  kick,  and  in  fact  he  had  kicked  a  little, 
but  he  would  warrant  the  mule  not  to  kick  unless  some 
thing  unusual  happened.  He  said  I  wouldn't  want  a  mule 
that  had  no  individuality  at  all,  one  that  hadir't  sand 
enough  to  protect  itself.  What  I  wanted,  the  chaplain 
said,  was  a  mule  that  would  treat  everybody  right,  but 
that  would,  if  imposed  upon,  stand  up  for  its  rights  and 


14  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

kick.  I  told  the  chaplain  that  was  about  the  kind  of 
mule- 1  wanted,  if  I  had  any  mule  at  all,  and  we  traded. 
The  chaplain  rode  off  to  town  on  my  horse,  on  a  canter, 
as  proud  as  a  peacock,  while  I  climbed  on  to  the  solemn, 
lop-eared  mule  and  went  out  to  drill  with  my  company.  I 
do  not  know  what  it  was  that  went  wrong  with  the  mule 
while  we  were  drilling,  but  as  we  were  wheeling  in  com 
pany  front,  the  mule  began  to  "  assert  his  individuality," 
as  the  chaplain  said  he  probably  would,  and  he  whirled 
around  sideways  and  kicked  three  soldiers  off  their  horses; 
then  he  backed  up  the  other  way  and  broke  up  the  second 
platoon,  kicked  four  horses  in  the  ribs,  stampeded  the 
company,  and  stood  there  alone  kicking  at  the  air.  The 
major  rode  down  to  where  I  was  and  began  to  swear  at  me, 
but  I  told  him  I  couldn't  help  it.  He  told  me  to  dismount 
and  lead  the  mule  away,  but  I  couldn't  dismount  until  the 
mule  stopped  kicking,  and  he  seemed  to  be  wound  up  for 
all  day.  The  major  got  too  near  and  the  mule  kicked  him 
on  the  shin,  and  then  started  for  the  company  again,  which 
had  got  into  ranks,  kicking  all  the  way,  and  the  company 
broke  ranks  and  started  for  camp,  the  mule  following, 
kicking  and  braying  all  the  way.  I  never  was  so  helpless 
in  all  my  life.  The  more  I  spurred  the  mule,  the  more  it 
kicked,  and  if  I  stopped  spurring  it,  it  kicked  worse. 
When  we  got  to  camp,  I  fell  off  some  way,  and  rushed  into 
the  chaplain's  tent,  and  the  mule  kicked  the  tent  down, 
and  some  boys  drove  the  mule  away,  and  while  I  was  fixing 
up  the  tent  the  chaplain  came  back  looking  happy,  and 
asked  me  how  I  liked  the  mule.  I  never  was  a  hypocrite, 
anyway,  and  I  was  mad,  so  I  said: 
"Oh,  dam  that  mule!" 


PUT  DOWN  THE  EEBELLION.  55 

Of  course  it  is  wrong  to  use  such  language,  especially 
in  the  presence  of  a  minister,  but  I  couldn't  help  it.  I 
could  see  it  hurt  the  chaplain,  for  he  sighed  and  said  he 
was  sorry  to  hear  such  words  from  me,  inasmuch  as  he  had 
just  got  me  detailed  as  his  clerk,  where  I  would  have  a  soft 
thing,  and  no  drilling  or  fighting.  He  said  he  had  wanted 
a  clerk,  one  who  was  a  good-hearted,  true  man,  and  he 
had  picked  me  out,  but  if  I  used  such  language,  that  set 
tled  it.  He  said  he  didn't  expect  to  find  a  private  soldier 
that  was  as  pious  as  he  was,  but  he  did  think  I  would  be 
the  best  man  he  could  find.  I  wanted  a  soft  job,  with  no 
fighting,  as  bad  as  any  man  ever  did,  and  I  told  the  chap 
lain  that  he  need  not  fear  as  to  my  swearing  again,  as  it 
was  foreign  to  my  nature,  but  I  told  him  if  he  had  been 
on  the  hurricane  deck  of  a  kicking  mule  for  an  hour,  and 
seen  comrades  fall  one  by  one,  and  bite  the  dust,  and  be 
carried  off  with  marks  of  mule  shoes  all  over  their  persons, 
he  would  swear,  and  I  would  bet  on  it.  So  it  was  arranged 
that  I  was  to  be  the  chaplain's  clerk,  and  I  moved  my  out 
fit  over  to  his  tent,  and  for  the  first  time  since  I  had  been 
a  soldier,  I  was  perfectly  happy.  There  was  no  danger  of 
being  detailed  for  guard  duty,  police  duty,  drilling,  or 
fighting,  and  the  only  boss  I  had  was  the  chaplain.  The 
chaplain  and  myself  sat  that  evening  in  his  tent,  and  ate 
sanitary  stores,  drank  wine  for  sickess,  and  smoked  pipes, 
and  didn't  care  whether  school  kept  or  not,  and  that  night 
I  slept  on  a  cot,  and  had  the  first  good  night's  rest,  and  in 
the  morning  I  awoke  refreshed,  and  with  no  fear  of  or 
derly  sergeants,  or  anybody.  I  had  a  soft  snap. 

The  next  morning  I  asked  the  chaplain  what  my  duties 
were  to  be,  and  he  said  I  was  to  take  care  of  the  tent, 


56  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

write  letters  for  him,  issue  sanitary  stores  to  deserving 
soldiers  who  might  need  them,  ride  with  him  sometimes 
when  he  went  to  town,  or  to  preach,  go  to  funerals  with 
him  occasionally,  set  a  good  example  to  the  other  soldiers, 
and  make  myself  generally  useful.  He  said  I  would  have 
to  attend  to  the  burial  of  the  colored  people  who  died,  and 
any  such  little  simple  details.  He  went  out  and  left  me 
pondering  over  my  duties.  I  liked  it  all  except  the  nigger 
funerals.  I  had  always  been  a  Democrat,  at  home,  and 
not  very  much  mashed  on  our  colored  brothers,  and  one 
thing  that  prevented  me  from  enlisting  before  T  did  was 
the  idea  of  making  the  colored  men  free.  I  had  nothing 
against  a  colored  man,  and  got  to  think  a  great  deal  of 
them  afterwards,  but  the  idea  of  acting  as  an  undertaker 
for  the  colored  race  never  occurred  to  me.  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  kick  on  that  part  of  the  duties,  when  the  chap 
lain  came  in  and  said  the  colored  cook  of  one  of  the  com 
panies  was  dead,  and  would  be  buried  that  afternoon,  and 
as  he  had  to  go  to  a  meeting  of  chaplains  down  town,  I 
would  have  to  go  and  conduct  the  services,  and  I  better 
prepare  myself  with  a  little  speech.  I  was  in  a  fix.  I  told 
the  chaplain  that  it  might  not  have  occurred  to  him,  but 
honestly,  I  couldn't  pray.  He  paid  that  didn't  make  anj 
difference.  I  told  him  I  could  i't  preach  hardly  at  all 
He  said  I  didn't  need  to.  All  I  had  to  do  was  to  go  am, 
find  out  something  about  the  life  of  the  deceased,  what, 
kind  of  a  man  he  was,  and  say  a  few  words  at  the  grave 
complimentary  of  him,  console  the  mourners,  if  there  were 
any,  and  counsel  them  to  try  to  lead  a  different  life,  that 
they  might  eventually  enter  into  the  glory  of  the  New 
Jerusalem,  or  words  to  that  effect.  Well,  this  made  me 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  57 

perspire.  This  was  a  tighter  place  than  I  was  in  when  I 
met  the  rebel.  The  idea  of  my  conducting  the  funeral 
exercises  of  such  a  black-burying  party,  made  me  tired. 
The  chaplain  said  a  good  deal  depended  on  how  I  got 
through  this  first  case,  as  if  I  succeeded  well,  it  would  be 
a  great  feather  in  my  cap.  His  idea,  he  said,  was  to  try 
me  first  on  a  nigger,  and  if  I  was  up  to  snuff,  and  carried 
myself  like  a  thoroughbred,  there  would  be  nothing  too 
good  for  me  in  that  regiment. 

I  went  to  the  orderly  sergeant  of  the  company  where 
the  man  died,  to  get  some  points  as  to  his  career,  in  order 
to  work  in  a  few  remarks  appropriate  to  the  occasion,  and 
I  said  to  the  orderly: 

"  I  understand  your  company  cook  has  gone  to  that 
bourne  from  whence  no  traveler  returns."  I  thought  that 
was  pretty  good  for  a  green  hand,  for  a  starter 

"  Yes,"  said  the  orderly,  as  he  looked  solemn/'  "The 
old  son-of-a-gun  has  passed  in  his  chips,  and  is  now  walk 
ing  in  green  pastures,  beside  still  waters,  but  he  will  not 
r?rink  any  of  the  aforesaid  still  waters,  if  he  can  steal  any 
whisky  to  drink." 

' '  You  astonish  me,"  said  I  to  the  orderly.  <f  The  fact 
is,  the  chaplain  has  sawed  off  on  to  me  the  duty  of  seeing 
to  the  burial  of  our  deceased  friend,  and  I  called  to  gather 
some  few  facts  as  to  his  characteristics  as  a  man  and  a 
brother.  Can  you  tell  me  of  anything  that  would  inter 
est  those  who  may  attend  ?  " 

"  0,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  orderly.  "  The  deceased 
was  a  liar,  a  thief,  and  a  drunkard.  He  would  steal  any 
thing  that  was  not  chained  down.  He  would  murder  a 
man  for  a  dollar.  He  was  the  worst  nigger  that  ever  was. 


68  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

If  there  was  a  medical  college  here  that  wanted  bodies,  it 
would  be  a  waste  of  money  to  bury  him.  But  when  he 
was  sober  he  could  bake  beans  for  all  that  was  out,  and 
there  was  no  man  that  could  boil  corned  mule  so  as  to  take 
the  taste  of  the  saltpetre  out,  as  he  could/' 

This  was  not  a  very  good  send  off  for  my  first  funeral, 
but  I  clung  to  the  good  qualities  possessed  by  the  late 
lamented.  Though  he  might  have  been  a  bad  man,  all 
was  not  lost  if  he  could  bake  beans  well,  and  boil  the  salt 
horse  or  corned  mule  that  soldiers  had  to  eat,  so  they  were 
appetizing.  Many  truly  good  men  of  national  reputation, 
could  not  have  excelled  him  in  his  chosen  specialties,  and 
I  made  a  memorandum  of  that  for  future  use.  I  made 
further  inquiries  in  the  company,  and  found  that  the  de 
ceased  had  a  bad  reputation,  owed  everybody,  had  five 
wives  living  that  he  had  deserted,  and  was  suspected  of 
having  murdered  two  or  three  colored  men  for  their 
money.  His  death  was  caused  by  delirium  tremens.  He 
had  stole  a  jug  of  whisky  from  the  major's  tent,  laid 
drunk  a  week,  and  when  the  whisky  was  gone  he  had 
tremens,  and  had  gone  to  the  horse  doctor  for  something 
to  quiet  his  nerves,  and  the  horse  doctor  had  given  him  a 
condition  powder  to  take,  to  be  followed  with  a  swallow  of 
mustang  liniment,  and  the  man  died. 

This  was  the  information  I  got  to  use  in  my  remarks 
at  the  grave  of  the  deceased,  and  I  went  back  to  my  tent 
to  think  it  over.  I  thought  perhaps  I  had  better  work 
in  the  horse  doctor  for  mal-practice,  in  my  discourse,  and 
thus  get  even  with  him  for  sending  me  to  the  general 
after  a  furlough.  While  I  was  thinking  over  the  things  I 
would  say,  and  trying  to  forget  the  bad  things  about  the 


PUT  DOWN   THE   REBELLION.  59 

man,  the  orderly  sent  word  that  the  funeral  cortege  was 
ready  to  proceed  to  the  bone  yard.  I  looked  down  the 
company  street  and  saw  the  remains  being  lifted  into  a 
cart,  and  I  went  out  and  put  the  saddle  on  my  mule,  and 
with  a  mental  prayer  that  the  confounded  mule  wouldn't 
get  to  kicking  till  the  funeral  was  over,  started  to  do  the 
honors  at  the  grave  of  the  late  company  cook. 


60  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.    PECK 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  FUNERAL  OF  THE  COLORED  COOK  — I  PLEAD  FOR  A  LARGER 
PROCESSION  — THE  FUNERAL  ORATION  — THE  FUNERAL  DIS 
TURBED —  I  AM  ARRESTED  —  MY  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE. 

The  last  chapter  of  these  celebrated  "war  papers " 
closed  with  me  saddling  my  mule  to  ride  to  the  funeral  of 
the  colored  cook,  at  which  I  was  to  act  as  chaplain.  The 
mule  evidently  knew  that  it  was  a  solemn  occasion,  for 
there  was  a  mournful  look  on  its  otherwise  placid  face, 
the  ears  drooped  more  than  usual,  and  there  seemed  a 
sweet  peace  stealing  over  the  animal,  which  well  became  a 
funeral,  until  I  began  to  buckle  up  the  saddle,  when  the 
long-eared  brute  began  to  paw  and  kick  and  bite,  and  it 
took  six  men  to  get  me  into  the  saddle.  I  rode  down  the 
company  street  where  the  cart  stood  with  the  remains,  and 
a  colored  driver  sitting  on  the  foot  of  the  plain  pine  box, 
asleep.  I  woke  the  driver  up  with  the  point  of  my  saber, 
when  another  colored  man  came  out  of  a  tent  with  a 
shovel  in  one  hand,  and  a  hardtack  with  a  piece  of  bacon 
in  the  other.  He  climbed  into  the  cart,  sat  down  on  the 
coffin  and  began  to  eat  his  dinner.  This  was  my  funeral. 
All  that  seemed  necessary  for  a  funeral  was  a  corpse,  a 
driver  of  a  cart,  and  a  man  with  a  shovel.  I  rode  up  to 
the  orderly's  tent  and  asked  him  where  the  mourners 
were,  and  he  laughed  at  me.  The  idea  of  mourners 
seemed  to  be  ridiculous.  I  had  never,  in  all  my  life,  seen 
so  slim  a  funeral,  and  it  hurt  me.  In  the  meantime  the 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  61 

nigger  with  the  shovel  had  woke  up  the  driver  of  the  cart, 
and  he  had  followed  me,  with  the  remains.  I  told  them 
to  halt  the  funeral  right  there,  until  I  could  skirmish 
around  and  pick  up  mourners  enough  for  a  mess,  and  a 
choir,  and  some  bearers.  As  I  rode  away  to  the  colonel's 
tent,  the  driver  of  the  cart  and  the  man  with  the  shovel 
were  playing  "  mumbletypeg,"  with  a  jack-knife,  on  the 
coffin,  which  shocked  me  very  much,  as  I  was  accustomed 
to  living  where  more  respect  was  paid  to  the  dead.  1 
went  to  the  colonel's  tent  and  yelled  "Say!"  The 
colonel,  who  was  changing  his  shirt,  came  to  the  door 
with  his  eyes  full  of  soap,  rubbing  his  neck  with  a  towel, 
and  asked  what  was  the  row.  I  told  him  I  would  like  to 
have  him  detail  me  six  bearers,  seven  or  eight  mourners, 
a  few  singers,  and  fifteen  or  twenty  men  for  a  congrega 
tion.  He  asked  me  what  on  earth  I  was  talking  about, 
and  just  then  the  cart  with  the  corpse  in  was  driven  up  to 
where  I  was,  the  orderly  having  told  the  driver  to  follow 
me  with  the  late  lamented.  I  pointed  to  the  outfit,  and 
said: 

"  Colonel,  in  that  box  lie  the  remains  of  a  colored  cook. 
The  chaplain  has  appointed  me  to  conduct  the  funeral 
service,  and  I  find  that  the  two  colored  men  on  the  cart  are 
the  only  ones  to  accompany  the  remains  to  their  last  rest 
ing  place.  No  man  can  successfully  run  a  funeral  on  three 
niggers,  one  of  whom  is  dead,  one  liable  to  go  to  sleep  any 
minute,  and  the  other  with  an  abnormal  appetite  for  hard 
tack.  It  is  a  disgrace  to  civilization  to  give  a  dead  man 
such  a  send  oil,  and  I  want  you  to  detail  me  some  men 
to  see  me  through.  I  have  loaded  myself  with  some  inter 
esting  remarks  befitting  the  occasion,  anc*  I  do  not  want  to 


62  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   TV.  PECK 

fire  them  off  into  space,  with  no  audience  except  these  two 
coons.  Give  me  some  mourners  and  things,  or  I  drop 
this  funeral  right  where  it  is." 

While  I  was  speaking  the  general  rode  up  to  visit  with 
the  colonel,  with  his  staff,  and  the  colonel  came  out  with 
his  undershirt  on,  and  his  suspenders  hanging  down,  and 
.\e  and  the  general  consulted  for  a  minute,  and  laughed  a 
jHtle,  which  I  thought  was  disgraceful.  Then  the  colonel 
pont  for  the  sergeant-major  and  told  him  to  detail  all  the 
company  cooks  and  officer's  servants,  to  attend  the  funeral 
>ith  me,  and  he  said  I  could  divide  them  off  into  reliefs, 
letting  a  few  be  mourners  at  a  time.  In  the  meantime,  he 
said,  I  could  move  my  procession  off  down  by  the  horse- 
ioctor's  quarter's,  as  he  did  not  want  it  in  front  of  his  tent. 
That  reminded  me  that  the  horse-doctor  had  prescribed 
for  the  deceased,  and  had  given  him  condition  powders, 
and  I  asked  the  colonel  to  compel  the  horse-doctor  to  go 
with  me.  It  had  always  seemed  to  me  at  home  that  the 
attending  physician,  under  whose  auspices  the  person  died, 
should  attend  the  funeral  of  his  patient,  and  when  I  told 
the  colonel  about  it,  he  called  the  horse-doctor  and  told 
him  he  would  have  to  go.  It  took  half  an  hour  or  so  tcr 
get  the  colored  cooks  and  servants  together,  but  when  all 
was  ready  to  move,  it  was  quite  a  respectable  funeral,  ex 
cept  that  I  could  not  help  noticing  a  spirit  of  levity  on  the 
part  of  the  mourners.  All  the  followers  were  mounted, 
the  officer's  servant's  on  officer's  horses,  and  the  cooks  on 
mules,  and  it  required  all  the  presence  of  mind  I  possessed 
to  keep  the  coons  from  turning  the  sad  occasion  into  a 
horse  race,  as  they  would  drop  back,  in  squads,  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  or  so,  and  then  come  whooping  up  to  the  cart 


PUT   DOWN-  THE   REBELLION.  63 

containing  the  remains,  and  each  vowing  Uiat  his  horse 
could  clean  out  the  others.  I  rode  in  front  of  the  remains 
with  the  horse-doctor,  and  tried  to  conduct  myself  in  as 
solemn  a  manner  as  befitted  the  occasion,  and  tried  to 
reason  with  the  horse-doctor  against  his  unseemly  jokes, 
which  he  was  constantly  getting  off.  He  told  several 
stones,  hetter  calculated  for  a  gathering  where  bacchana 
lian  revelry  was  the  custom,  and  I  told  him  that  while  I 
respected  his  calling,  he  must  respect  mine.  He  said 
something  about  calling  a  man  on  a  full  hand,  against  a 
flush,  but  I  did  not  pretend  to  know  what  he  meant.  We 
had  to  go  out  of  town  about  two  miles,  to  the  cemetery. 
Unfortunately  we  were  in  the  watermelon  growing  section, 
and  the  horse-doctor  called  my  attention  to  the  fact  that 
Jhy  procession  was  becoming  scarce,  when  I  looked  around, 
and  every  blessed  one  of  the  cooks  and  servants,  and  the 
man  with  the  shovel,  had  gone  off  into  the  field  after 
melons,  and  I  stopped  the  cart  and  yelled  to  them  to  come 
back  to  the  funeral.  Pretty  soon  they  all  rode  back,  each 
with  a  melon  under  his  arm,  and  every  face  looked  as 
though  there  was  no  funeral  that  could  prevent  a  nigger 
from  stealing  a  watermelon.  After  several  stops,  to  round 
up  my  mourners,  from  corn  fields  and  horse  racing,  we 
arrived  at  the  cemetery,  and  while  the  grave  was  being 
dug  the  niggers  went  for  the  melons,  and  if  it  had  been  a 
picnic  there  couldn't  have  been  much  more  enjoyment. 
The  horse-doctor  took  out  a  big  knife  that  he  used  to  bleed 
horses,  and  cut  a  melon,  and  offered  me  a  slice,  and  while 
I  did  not  feel  that  it  was  just  the  place  to  indulge  in  melon, 
it  looked  so  good  that  I  ate  some,  with  a  mental  reservation, 
however.  It  was  all  a  new  experience  to  me*  I  had  never 


64  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

believed  that  in  the  presence  of  death,  or  at  a  funeral, 
people  could  be  anything  but  decorous  and  solemn.  I  had 
never  attended  a  funeral  before,  except  where  all  present 
were  friends  of  the  deceased,  and  sorry,  but  here  all  seemed 
different.  They  all  seemed  to  look  upon  the  thing  as  a 
good  joke.  I  had  read  that  in  New  York  and  other  large 
cities,  those  who  attended  funerals  had  a  horse  race  on  the 
way  back,  and  stopped  at  beer  saloons  and  filled  up,  but  I 
never  believed  that  people  could  be  so  depraved.  I  tried 
to  talk  to  the  coons,  and  get  them  to  show  proper  respect 
for  the  occasion,  but  they  laughod  and  threw  melon  rinds 
at  each  other.  Finally  the  colonel  and  the  general,  with 
quite  a  lot  of  soldiers,  who  were  out  reconnoitering,  rode 
to  where  we  were,  and  the  coons  acted  a  little  better,  but 
I  could  see  that  the  officers  were  not  particularly  solemn. 
They  seemed  to  expect  something  rich.  They  evidently 
looked  upon  me  as  a  star  idiot,  who  would  make  some 
blunder,  or  say  something  to  make  them  laugh:  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  in  my  new  position  I  would  act  just  as 
decorous,  and  speak  as  kindly  as  though  the  deceased  was 
the  president.  During  all  my  life  I  had  made  it  a  prac 
tice  never  to  speak  ill  of  any  person  on  earth,  and  if  I 
could  not  say  a  good  word  for  a  person  I  would  say  nothing, 
a  practice  which  I  have  kept  up  until  this  writing,  with 
much  success,  and  I  decided  that  the  words  spoken  on  that 
occasion  should  not  reflect  against  the  poor  man  who  had 
passed  in  his  checks,  and  laid  down  the  burden  of  life. 
The  grave  was  completed,  and  with  a  couple  of  picket 
ropes  the  body  was  let  down,  and  tnere  was  for  a  moment 
a  sort  of  solemnity.  I  arose,  and  as  near  as  I  can  remei  — 
her  at  this  late  day,  spoke  about  as  follows: 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION  65 

:  We  have  met  here  today  to  conduct  the 
last  rites  over  a  man,  who  but  yesterday  was  among  us 
but  who,  in  an  unguarded  moment  drank  too  much 
whisky,  and  paid  the  penalty.  (There  was  a  smile  percep 
tible  on  the  faces  of  the  officers.)  The  ignorant  man  who 
died,  did  not  know  any  better,  but  I  see  around  me  men 
who  know  better,  but  who  drink  more  than  this  man  did, 
and  if  they  are  not  careful  they  will  go  the  same  way. 
(There  was  less  smiling  among  the  officers.)  It  is  said  of 
this  man  that  he  was  bad,  that  he  would  steal.  I  have 
investigated,  and  have  found  that  it  is  true,  but  that  his 
peculations  consisted  of  small  things,  of  little  value,  and  I 
am  convinced  that  the  habit  was  not  worse  with  him  than 
with  any  of  us.  In  war  times,  everybody  steals.  We  are 
all  thieves  to  a  certain  extent.  The  soldier  will  not  go 
hungry  if  he  can  jay-hawk  anything  to  eat.  The  officer 
will  not  go  thirsty  if  he  can  capture  whisky,  nor  will  any- 
body  walk  if  he  can  steal  a  horse.  The  higher  a  man  gets 
the  more  he  will  steal.  Shall  we  harbor  unkind  thoughts 
against  this  dead  man  for  stealing  a  pair  of  boots,  and 
honor  a  general  who  steals  a  thousand  bales  of  cotton? 
(No!  no!  shouted  the  cooks  and  servants,  while  the  officers 
looked  as  though  they  were  sorry  they  attended  the  fun 
eral.)  Friends  let  us  look  at  the  good  qualities  of  our 
friend.  I  say.  without  fear  of  successful  contradiction, 
that  a  man,  however  humble  his  station,  who  can  bake 
beans  as  well  as  the  remains  could  bake  them,  is  entitled  to 
a  warm  place  in  the  heart  of  every  soldier,  and  if  he  goes 
to  the  land  that  is  fairer  than  this, — and  who  can  say  that 
he  will  not, —  he  is  liable  to  be  welcomed  with  '  well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant/  and  he  will  be  received  where 


S6  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

horse  doctors  can  never  enter  with  their  condition  powders, 
and  where  there  will  never  be  war  any  more.  To  his  family, 
or  several  families,  as  the  case  may  be,  I  would  say — " 

At  this  point  I  had  noticed  an  uneasiness  on  the  part 
of  my  mourners  and  bearers,  as  well  as  the  officers.  Nine 
of  the  negroes  fell  down  on  the  ground  and  groaned  as  if 
in  pain,  and  the  general  and  his  staff  looked  off  to  a  piece 
of  woods  where  a  few  shots  had  been  fired,  and  rode  away 
hurriedly,  the  colonel  telling  me  I  had  better  hurry  up 
that  funeral  or  it  was  liable  to  be  interrupted.  The  horse- 
doctor  went  to  the  negroes  who  were  sick,  and  after  exam 
ining  them  he  said  they  had  been  poisoned  by  eating 
melons  that  had  been  doctored,  and  he  advised  them  to  get 
to  town  as  quick  as  possible.  They  scrambled  on  their 
horses  the  best  way  they  could,  and  just  then  there  was  a 
yell,  and  out  of  the  woods  came  half  a  dozen  Union  soldiers 
followed  by  fifteen  or  twenty  Confederates,  and  all  was  con 
fusion.  The  niggers  scattered  towards  town,  the  driver  of 
the  cart  taking  the  lead,  trying  to  catch  the  general  and  his 
staff,  who  were  hurrying  away,  leaving  the  horse-doctor, 
myself  and  the  deceased.  The  horse-doctor  seized  the 
shovel  and  threw  a  little  dirt  on  the  coffin,  then  mounted 
his  horse,  I  mounted  my  mule,  and  away  we  went  towards 
town,  with  the  rebels  gaining  on  us  every  jump.  The 
horse-doctor  soon  left  me,  and  with  a  picket  I  had  pulled 
off  the  fence  of  the  cemetery,  I  worked  my  passage  on  that 
mule,  I  mauled  the  mule,  and  the  more  I  pounded  the 
slower  it  went.  There  was  never  a  more  deliberate  mule 
in  the  world.  I  forgot  all  the  solemn  thoughts  that  pos 
sessed  me  at  the  grave,  and  tried  to  talk  to  the  mule  like  a 
mule-driver,  but  the  animal  just  fooled  along,  as  though 


PUT  DOWN  TH1   REBELLIOH.  67 

there  was  no  especial  hurry.  Occasionally  I  could  hear 
bullets  '  zipping '  along  by  me,  and  the  rebels  were  yelling 
for  all  that  was  out.  0,  how  I  did  wish  I  had  my  old  race 
horse  that  the  chaplain  had  beat  me  out  of.  In  my  first 
engagement  my  horse  was  too  fast,  and  there  was  danger 
that  I  would  catch  my  friend,  the  rebel,  and  I  complained 
of  the  horse.  Now  I  had  a  mule  that  was  too  slow.  What 
I  wanted  was  a  '  middling'  horse,  one  that  was  not  too  con 
founded  fast  when  after  the  enemy,  and  one  not  so  alfired 
slow  when  being  pursued.  The  Johnnies  were  coming 
closer,  but  we  were  only  half  a  mile  from  town.  Would 
they  chase  us  clear  into  town?  At  that  critical  moment 
the  blasted  mule  stopped  short,  never  to  go  again,  and 
began  to  kick.  What  on  earth  possessed  that  fool  mule  to 
take  a  notion  to  stop  right  there  and  kick,  is  more  than  I 
shall  ever  know,  but  it  simply  kicked,  and  I  felt  that  my 
time  had  come.  The  Union  soldiers  that  were  being  chased 
by  the  Confederates  passed  me,  and  told  me  I  better  light 
out  or  I  would  be  captured,  but  I  couldn't  get  the  mule  to 
budge  an  inch.  It  just  kicked.  The  good  Lord  only  knows 
what  that  mule  was  kicking  at,  or  why  it  should  have  been 
scheduled  to  stop  and  kick  at  that  particular  time,  when 
every  minute  was  precious.  I  saw  the  rebels  very  near  me, 
and  as  it  was  impossible  to  get  the  mule  to  go  a  step  far 
ther,  I  raised  the  large,  flat,  white- washed  picket  which  I 
had  torn  off  the  cemetery  fence  to  maul  the  mule  with,  in 
token  of  surrender,  and  the  Confederate  boys  surrounded 
me,  though  they  kept  a  safe  distance,  after  my  mule  had 
kicked  in  the  ribs  of  one  of  their  horses.  The  rebs  had 
gone  about  as  far  towards  the  town  as  it  was  safe  to  go,  and 
and  they  knew  the  whole  garrison  would  be  out  after  them 


68  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

pretty  soon,  so  they  laughed  at  me  for  being  armed  with  a 
whitewashed  picket,  and  asked  me  if  I  expected  to  put 
down  the  rebellion  by  stabbing  the  enemy  with  such 
things.  I  told  them  I  had  been  burying  a  nigger.  One 
of  my  captors  run  the  point  of  his  saber  into  my  mule, 
to  stop  its  kicking,  and  then  he  said  to  his  com 
rades,  "Boys,  we  came  out  here  with  the  glorious 
prospect  of  capturing  a  Yankee  general  and  his  staff,  and 
instead  of  getting  him,  we  have  broken  up  a  nigger  funeral 
and  captured  the  gospel  sharp,  armed  with  a  picket  fence, 
and  a  kicking  mule.  Shall  we  hang  him  for  engaging  in 
uncivilized  warfare,  by  stabbing  us  with  pickets  poisoned 
with  whitewash,  or  shall  we  take  the  red-headed  slim-jim 
back  with  us  as  a  curiosity."  The  boys  all  said  not  to 
hang  me,  but  to  take  me  along.  I  saw  that  it  was  all  day 
with  me  this  time.  I  felt  that  I  was  helping  put  down  the 
rebellion  rapidly,  as  I  had  been  a  soldier  four  weeks,  been 
captured  twice,  and  not  a  drop  of  blood  had  been  spilled. 
The  rebels  started  back,  with  me  and  my  mule  ahead  of 
them,  and  they  kept  the  mule  ahead  by  jabbing  it  with 
a  saber  occasionally.  I  felt  humiliated  and  indignant  at 
being  called  slim-jim,  sorrel-top,  and  elder.  They  seemed 
to  think  I  was  a  preacher.  I  stood  it  all  until  a  cuss 
reached  into  my  pocket  and  took  my  meershaum  pipe  and 
a  bag  of  tobacco,  filled  the  pipe  and  lit  it,  then  I  was  mad. 
I  had  paid  eight  dollars  of  my  bounty  for  that  pipe,  and  I 
said  to  the  leader:  "Boss,  I  can  stand  a  joke  as  well  as 
anybody,  but  when  you  capture  me,  in  a  fair  fight,  you 
have  no  right  to  jab  my  mule  with  a  saber,  or  call  me 
names.  I  am  a  meek  and  lowly  soldier  of  the  army  of  the 
*ight,  and  want  to  so  live  that  I  can  meet  you  all  in  the 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  69 

great  hereafter,  but  by  the  gods  I  can  whip  the  condemned 
galoot  that  stole  my  meershaum  pipe.  You  think  I  am 
pious,  and  a  non-combatant,  but  I  am  a  fighter  from  away 
back,  and  don't  you  forget  it."  The  young  man  who 
seemed  to  be  in  command  told  me  to  dry  up,  and  he  would 
get  my  pipe.  He  went  and  took  it  away  from  the  one  who 
had  stolen  it,  filled  it  and  lit  it  himself,  and  said  it  was  a 
good  pipe,  and  then  he  passed  it  around  among  them  all. 
We  moved  off  at  a  trot,  and  were  getting  far  away  from  my 
regiment,  and  I  realized  that  I  was  a  captive,  and  that  I 
should  probably  die  in  Andersonville  prison.  I  looked  at 
the  dozen  stalwart  rebels  that  were  riding  behind  me,  and 
knew  I  could  not  whip  them  all  with  one  picket  off  the 
cemetery  fence,  and  so  I  resolved  to  remain  a  captive,  and 
die  for  my  country,  of  scurvey,  if  necessary.  I  turned 
around  in  my  saddle  to  ask  if  it  wasn't  about  time  for  me 
to  have  a  smoke  out  of  my  own  pipe,  and  as  I  looked  up 
the  road  we  had  come  over  I  saw  a  large  body  of  our  own 
cavalry,  coming  like  the  wind  toward  us.  I  said  nothing, 
but  my  face  gave  me  away.  I  looked  so  tickled  to  see  the 
boys  coming  that  the  rebels  noticed  it,  and  they  looked 
back  and  saw  the  soldiers  in  pursuit,  they  yelled,  "The 
Yanks  are  coming  ! "  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  stabbed  my 
mule  and  told  me  to  pound  it  with  the  picket,  and  hurry 
up,  and  then  they  passed  me,  and  away  they  went,  leaving 
me  in  the  road  alone  between  them  and  my  own  soldiers, 
I  yelled  to  the  leader  to  give  me  back  my  pipe,  and  I  can 
hear  his  mocking  laugh  to  this  day,  as  he  told  me  to  "  go 
to  hell."  This  made  me  mad,  and  drawing  my  picket  I 
dashed  after  the  retreating  rebels,  knowing  that  the  men 
of  my  regiment  would  soon  overtake  me,  and  they  would 
o 


70  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

think  I  had  chased  the  rebels  three  miles  from  town,  armed 
only  with  a  picket  off  the  fence,  and  saved  the  garrison 
from  capture.  The  thing  worked  to  perfection,  and  when 
our  command  came  up,  the  horses  panting  and  perspiring, 
and  the  boys  looking  wild,  the  captain  in  command  asked 
me  how  many  there  was  of  'em,  and  I  told  him  about 
forty,  and  he  said  I  had  done  well  to  drive  them  so  far,  and 
he  charged  by  me  after  them.  I  yelled  to  the  captain  to 
try  and  kill  that  long-legged  rebel  on  the  sorrel  horse,  and 
get  my  meershaum  pipe,  but  he  didn't  hear  me.  I  hurried 
along  as  fast  as  I  could,  but  before  I  caught  up,  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  firing,  and  when  I  got  there  flankers  were 
out  in  the  woods,  and  there  was  sorrow,  for  three  or  four 
boys  in  blue  had  been  killed  in  an  ambush,  and  the  rebels 
had  got  away  across  a  bayou.  As  I  rode  up  on  my  mule, 
with  the  picket  still  in  my  hand,  I  saw  the  three  soldiers  of 
my  regiment  lying  dead  under  a  tree,  two  others  were 
wounded  and  had  bandages  around  their  heads,  and  for  the 
first  time  since  I  had  been  a  soldier,  I  realized  that  war  was 
not  a  picnic.  I  could  not  keep  my  eyes  off  the  faces  of  my 
dead  comrades,  the  best  and  bravest  boys  in  the  regiment, 
boys  who  always  got  to  the  front  when  there  was  a  skirmish. 
To  think  that  I  had  been  riding  right  amongst  the  rebels 
who  had  done  this  thing  but  a  few  minutes  before,  and 
never  thought  that  death  would  claim  anybody  so  soon.  I 
wondered  if  those  rebels  were  not  sorry  they  had  killed 
such  good  boys.  I  wondered,  as  I  thought  of  the  fathers 
and  mothers,  and  sisters  of  my  dead  companions,  whether 
the  rebels  would  not  sympathize  with  them,  and  then  I 
thought  suppose  our  fellows  had  not  been  killed,  and  we 
had  killed  some  of  the  Confederates,  wouldn't  it  have  beau 


PUT  DOWtf  THE  REBELLION".  71 

just  as  sorrowful,   wouldn't  their  fathers,  mothers  and 
sisters  have  mourned  the  same. 

Then  I  made  a  resolve  that  I  would  never  kill  anybody 
if  I  could  help  it;  I  even  decided  that  if  I  should  meet  the 
rebel  that  had  my  meershaum  pipe,  I  would  not  fight  him 
to  get  it.  If  he  wasn't  gentleman  enough  to  give  it  up 
peaceably,  he  could  keep  it,  and  be  darned.  Just  then 
some  of  our  skirmishers  came  in  carrying  another  dead 
body,  and  we  were  all  speculating  as  to  which  one  of  our 
poor  boys  had  fallen,  when  we  noticed  that  the  dead 
soldier  had  on  a  gray  suit,  and  it  was  soon  found  that  he 
was  one  of  the  Confederates.  He  was  laid  down  beside  our 
dead  boys,  and  I  don't  know  but  I  felt  about  as  bad  to  see 
him  dead,  as  it  was  possible  to  feel.  It  is  true  he  had  told 
me,  half  an  hour  before,  when  I  asked  him  for  my  pipe,  to 
go  to  hades,  but  I  did  not  have  to  go  unless  I  wanted  to. 
And  he  was  gone  first.  I  saw  something  sticking  out  o* 
the  breast  pocket  of  the  dead  Confederate,  and  could  see 
that  it  was  my  pipe.  Then  I  thought  of  the  foolish  re 
mark  I  made  to  the  captain,  to  kill  that  long-legged  rebel 
and  get  my  meershaum.  God  bless  him,  I  didn't  want 
anybody  to  kill  him  for  a  bad  smelling  old  pipe,  and  I 
wondered  if  that  remark  would  be  registered  up  against 
me,  in  the  great  book  above,  when  I  didn't  mean  it.  I 
tried  to  make  myself  believe  that  my  remark  did  not  have 
any  influence  on  the  man's  fate.  He  just  took  his  chances 
with  his  comrades,  and  was  killed,  no  doubt,  and  yet  it  was 
impossible  to  get  the  idea  off  my  mind  that  I  was  responsi 
ble  for  his  death.  Anyway,  I  would  never  touch  the  con 
founded  old  pipe  again,  and  if  I  ever  heard  of  his  mother 
or  sister,  after  the  war  was  over,  I  would  stand  by  them  as 


72  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

long  as  I  had  a  nickel.  An  ambulanee  was  sent  for  and 
the  dead  and  wounded  were  placed  in  it,  and  we  went  back 
to  town,  a  sad  procession.  There  was  no  need  to  detail 
any  mourners  for  this  occasion,  and  there  was  no  strag 
gling  for  watermelons.  Everybody  was  full  of  sorrow. 
The  next  day  there  was  a  Union  funeral  in  that  Southern 
town,  and  the  three  Union  boys  were  laid  side  by  side, 
while  a  little  to  one  side  my  Confederate  was  buried, 
receiving  the  same  kind  words  from  the  chaplains.  As  a 
volley  was  about  to  be  fired  over  the  graves,  I  picked  a 
handful  of  roses,  buds  and  blossoms,  from  a  rose  bush  in 
the  cemetery,  and  went  to  the  grave  of  the  Confederate  and 
tenderly  tossed  them  upon  the  coffin.  The  horse  doctor 
saw  me  do  it,  and  in  his  rough  manner  said, 

"  What  you  about  there  ?  It  ain't  necessary  to  plant 
flowers  on  the  graves  of  rebels." 

"  0,  no,  it  isn't  necessary/'  I  said,  as  the  volley  was 
fired  over  the  graves,  "but  it  will  make  his  mother  or  his 
sister  feel  better  to  know  that  there  are  a  few  roses  in  there, 
and  it  won't  hurt  anybody.  I  will  just  play  that  I  am  the 
authorized  agent  of  that  Confederate  soldier's  sister." 

"0,  all  right  if  you  say  so,"  said  the  horse-doctor,  as  he 
drew  the  sleeve  of  his  blue  blouse  across  his  eyes,  which 
were  wet.  The  last  volley  was  fired,  and  the  soldiers  re 
turned  to  camp,  leaving  the  dead  of  two  armies  sleeping 
together.  As  I  went  in  the  chaplain's  tent  and  sat  down 
to  think,  the  chaplain  handed  me  something,  saying: 

"  Here's  your  pipe.  They  found  it  on  that  Confederate 
soldier  that  captured  you." 

I  pushed  it  away  and  said,  "I  don't  want  it.  I  have 
quit  smoking." 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION".  73 


CHAPTER  VI. 

I  CAPTURE  "  JEFF"— I  GET  BACK  AT  THE  CHAPLAIN-  THE  CHAP 
LAIN  ARRESTED  —  OFF  ON  A  RAID  —  I  MEET  THF  RELATIVES 
OF  THE  DEAD  CONFEDERATE  —  MY  POWERS  OF  LYING  ARE 
BROUGHT  INTO  PLAY. 

The  winding  up  of  the  last  chapter  of  this  history,  with 
its  sad  incidents,  deaths  and  burials,  was  unavoidable,  but 
it  shall  not  occur  again.  The  true  historian  has  got  to 
get  in  all  the  particulars.  I  think  I  never  felt  quite  as  down 
hearted  as  I  did  the  day  or  two  after  the  skirmish,  when 
our  boys  were  killed.  It  had  seemed  as  though  there  was 
no  danger  of  anybody  getting  hurt,  as  long  as  they  looked 
out  for  themselves,  but  now  there  was  a  feeling  that  any 
body  was  liable  to  be  killed,  any  time,  and  why  not  me? 
Of  course  the  old  veterans  of  the  regiment  were  the  ones 
who  would  naturally  be  expected  to  take  the  brunt  of  the 
battle,  but  there  was  a  habit  of  sending  raw  recruits  into 
places  of  danger  that  struck  me  as  being  mighty  careless, 
as  well  as  very  bad  judgment.  Then  there  were  great 
preparations  being  made  for  an  advance  movement,  or  a 
retreat,  or  something,  and  my  mind  was  constantly  occu 
pied  in  trying  to  find  out  whether  it  was  to  be  an  advance 
or  a  retreat.  If  it  was  an  advance,  I  wanted  to  arrange  to 
be  in  the  rear,  and  if  it  was  a  retreat,  it  seemed  to  me  as 
as  though  the  proper  place  for  a  man  who  wanted  to  live 
to  go  home,  was  in  front.  And  yet  what  chance  was  there 
for  a  common  private  soldier  to  find  out  whether  it  was  an 
advance  or  a  retreat.  Finally  I  decided  that  when  the 


74  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

regiment  did  start  out,  I  would  manage  to  be  about  the 
middle,  so  it  wouldn't  make  much  difference  which  way 
we  went.  When  that  idea  occurred  to  me  I  pondered  over 
it  a  good  deal  and  told  the  chaplain,  and  he  said  it  was  a 
piece  of  as  brilliant  strategy  as  he  had  ever  heard  of,  and 
he  was  willing  to  adopt  it,  only  being  a  staff  officer  it  was 
necessary  for  him  and  me  to  ride  with  the  colonel,  and  the 
colonel  most  always  rode  at  the  head,  though  his  place  was 
about  the  middle.  He  said  he  would  speak  to  the  colonel 
about  it.  It  made  my  hair  stand  to  see  the  preparations 
that  were  being  made  for  carnage.  Ammunition  enough 
was  issued  to  kill  a  million  men,  and  the  doctors  were 
packing  bandages  and  plasters,  and  physic,  and  splints 
and  probes,  until  it  made  me  sick  to  look  at  them.  When 
I  thought  of  actual  war,  my  mind  reverted  to  my  mule, 
the  kicking  brute  that  was  no  good,  and  I  decided  to  get 
a  horse.  I  had  got  so,  actually,  that  I  could  hear  bullets 
whistle  without  turning  pale  and  having  cold  chills  run 
over  me,  and  it  seemed  as  though  a  horse  was  none  too 
good  for  me,  so  I  went  to  the  colonel  and  told  him  that  a 
soldier  couldn't  make  no  show  on  a  kicking  mule  and  I 
wanted  a  horse.  I  told  him  I  supposed,  as  chaplain's  clerk, 
I  should  have  to  ride  with  him  and  his  staff,  on  the  march, 
and  he  didn't  want  to  see  as  nice  a  looking  fellow  as  I  was 
riding  a  kicking  mule  that  would  kick  the  ribs  of  the 
officer's  horses,  and  break  the  officer's  legs.  The  colonel 
said  he  had  not  thought  of  that  contingency.  He  had  en 
joyed  seeing  me  ride  the  mule,  because  I  was  so  patient 
when  the  mule  kicked.  He  said  they  used  that  mule  in 
the  regiment  to  teach  recruits  to  ride.  A  man  who  could 
stay  on  that  mule  could  ride  any  horse  in  the  regiment, 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  75 

and  as  I  had  been  successful,  and  had  displayed  splendid 
"  mulemanship,"  I  should  be  promoted  to  ride  a  horse, 
and  he  told  the  quartermaster  to  exchange  with  me  and 
give  me  the  chestnut-sorrel  horse  that  the  Confederate  was 
shot  off  of.  I  went  with  the  quartermaster  to  the  corral, 
turned  out  my  mule,  and  cornered  the  beautiful  horse  that 
had  been  rode  so  proudly  a  few  days  before  by  my  friendv 
the  rebel.  It  took  six  of  us  to  catch  the  horse,  and  bridle 
and  saddle  him,  and  the  men  about  the  corral  said  the 
horse  was  no  good.  He  hadn't  eaten  anything  since  being 
captured,  and  his  eyes  looked  bad,  and  he  wanted  to  kick 
and  bite  everybody.  I  told  them  the  poor  horse  was  home 
sick,  that  was  all  that  ailed  him.  The  horse  was  a  Con 
federate  at  heart,  and  he  naturally  had  no  particular  love 
for  Yankees.  I  remembered  that  once  or  twice  when  I 
was  riding  with  the  rebels,  after  they  captured  me,  the 
young  fellow  on  this  horse  patted  him  on  the  neck  and 
called  him  "  Jeff,"  so  I  knew  that  was  his  name,  so  I  led 
him  out  of  the  corral  away  from  the  other  fellows,  where 
there  was  some  grass  growing,  and  made  up  my  mind  I 
would  "mash"  him.  After  he  had  eaten  grass  a  little 
while,  looking  at  me  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eyes  as 
though  he  didn't  know  whether  to  kick  my  head  off,  or 
walk  on  me,  as  I  sat  under  a  tree,  I  got  up  and  patted  him 
on  the  neck  and  said,  "Well,  Jeff,  old  boy,  how  does  the 
grass  fit  your  stomach?" 

You  may  talk  about  brute  intelligence,  but  that  horse  was 
human.  He  stopped  eating,  with  his  mouth  full  of  grass, 
looked  aitonished  at  being  addressed  by  a  stranger  without 
an  introduction,  and  turned  a  pair  of  eyes  as  beautiful  and 
soft  as  a  woman's  upon  me,  and  theu  began  tp  chew  slowly, 


76  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE   W.  PECK     . 

as  though  thinking.  I  rubbed  his  sleek  coat  with  my  fcare 
hands,  and  did  not  say  much,  desiring  to  have  Jeff  make 
the  first  advances.  He  looked  me  over,  and  finally  put  his 
nose  on  my  sleeve,  and  rubbed  me,  and  looked  in  my  face, 
and  acted  as  though  he  would  say,  "  Well,  of  course  this 
red-headed  fellow  is  no  comparison  to  my  dead  master,  but 
evidently  he's  no  slouch,  and  if  I  have  got  to  be  bossed 
around  by  a  Yankee,  as  he  is  the  only  one  that  has  spoken 
a  kind  word  to  me  since  I  was  captured,  and  he  seems  to 
know  my  name,  I  guess  I  will  tie  to  him,"  and  the  intelli 
gent  animal  rubbed  his  nose  all  over  me,  and  licked  my 
hand.  I  rubbed  the  horse  all  over,  petted  him,  took  up 
his  feet  and  looked  at  them,  and  spoke  his  name,  and 
pretty  soon  we  were  the  best  of  friends.  I  mounted  him 
and  rode  around  and  it  was  just  like  a  rocking  chair.  That 
poor,  dead  Confederate  had  probably  rode  Jeff  since  he  was  a 
kid  and  Jeff  was  a  colt,  and  had  broken  him  well,  and  I  was 
awfully  sorry  that  the  original  owner  was  not  alive,  riding  his 
horse  home  safe  and  sound,  to  be  greeted  by  his  family  with 
loving  embraces.  But  he  was  dead  and  buried,  and  his  horse 
belonged  to  me,  by  all  the, laws  of  war.  And  yet  I  had  not 
become  a  hardened  warrior  to  such  an  extent  that  I  could 
forget  the  hearts  that  would  ache  at  his  home,  and  I  made 
up  mind  that  horse  would  be  treated  as  tenderly  as  though 
he  was  one  of  my  family.  I  rode  Jeff  around  for  an  hour 
or  two,  found  that  he  was  trained  to  jump  fences,  stand 
on  his  hind  feet,  trot,  pace,  rack,  and  that  he  could  run 
like  a  scared  wolf,  and  everything  the  horse  did  he  would 
sort  of  look  around  at  me  with  one  eye  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Boss,  you  will  find  I  have  got  all  the  modern  improve 
ments,  and  you  needn't  be  afraid  that  I  will  disgrace  you 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION 

in  any  society. "  I  was  fairly  in  love  with  my  new  ho  fl*>, 
and,  except  for  a  feeling  that  I  was  an  interloper  with  the 
horse,  and  sorry  for  the  poor  boy  that  had  been  shot  off 
him,  I  should  have  baen  perfectly  happy. 

The  chaplain  had  got  in  the  habit  of  wearing  a  nice, 
blue  broadcloth  blouse  which  I  had  brought  from  home, 
which  had  two  rows  of  brass  buttons  on  it.  I  had  paid 
about  twenty  dollars  of  my  bounty  for  the  blouse,  and  had 
found  that  the  private  soldiers  did  not  wear  such  elaborate 
uniforms  in  active  duty,  so  I  kept  it  in  the  chaplain's  tent. 
I  thought  if  I  was  killed  and  my  body  was  sent  home,  the 
blouse  would  come  handy.  The  chaplain  wore  it  occasion 
ally,  and  he  said  any  time  I  wanted  to  wear  any  of  hi ; 
clothes  to  just  help  myself.  An  order  had  been  issued  t( 
move  the  following  day,  with  ten  days'  rations,  and  some 
of  the  boys  asked  for  passes  to  go  down  town  and  have  s 
little  blow-out  before  we  started.  They  wanted  me  to  ga 
along,  and  so  I  got  a  pass,  too.  We  were  to  go  down  town 
m  the  afternoon  and  stay  till  nine  o'clock  at  night,  when 
we  had  to  be  in  camp.  I  saddled  up  Jeff  and  looked  for 
my  blouse,  but  it  was  gone,  the  chaplain  having  worn  it 
to  visit  the  chaplain  of  some  other  regiment,  so  I  took  his 
coat  and  put  it  on,  as  he  had  told  me  to.  The  coat  had 
the  chaplain's  shoulder-straps  on,  but  I  thought  there 
would  be  no  harm  in  wearing  it,  so  about  a  dozen  of  us 
privates  started  for  town  to  have  a  good  time,  and  I  with 
chaplain's  shoulder-straps  on.  It  was  customary,  when 
soldiers  went  to  town  on  a  pass,  to  partake  of  intoxicating 
beverages  more  or  less,  as  that  was  about  the  only  form  of 
enjoyment,  and  I  blush  now,  twenty-two  years  afterward, 
to  write  the  fact  that  we  all  got  pretty  full.  It  seemed  so 


78  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

like  home  to  be  able  to  go  into  a  saloon  and  drink  beer, 
good  old  northern  beer,  and  who  knew  but  tomorrow  we 
would  be  killed.  So  we  ate,  drank,  and  were  merry.  One 
of  the  boys  said  when  the  officers  got  on  a  "  tear,"  they 
would  ride  right  into  billiard  saloons,  and  sometime  shoot 
at  decanters  of  red  liquor  behind  the  bar,  and  he  said  a 
private  was  just  as  good  as  an  officer  any  day,  and  sug 
gested  that  we  mount  our  horses  and  paint  the  town.  We 
mounted,  and  rode  about  town,  racing  up  and  down  the 
streets,  and  finally  we  came  to  a  billiard  saloon,  and  half 
a  dozen  of  us  rode  right  in,  took  cues  out  of  the  rack,  and 
tried  to  play  billiards  on  horse-back.  It  was  a  grand  pic 
nic  then,  though  it  seems  foolish  now.  My  horse  Jeff  would 
do  anything  I  asked  him,  and  when  I  rode  up  to  the  bar 
and  told  him  to  rear  up,  he  put  both  fore  feet  on  the  bar, 
and  looked  at  the  bartender  as  much  as  to  say,  "set  up 
the  best  you  have  got." 

The  chaplain's  shoulder-straps  gave  the  crowd  a  sort  of 
confidence  that  everything  was  all  right,  and  after  exhib 
iting  in  a  saloon  for  a  time,  there  was  something  said  about 
horse-racing,  and  I  said  my  horse  could  beat  anything  on 
four  legs,  so  we  adjourned  to  the  outskirts  of  town  for  a 
race,  followed  by  half  the  people  in  town.  We  had  a 
horse-race,  and  Jeff  beat  them  all,  and  wherever  I  went 
the  crowd  would  cheer  the  chaplain.  They  said  they 
liked  to  see  a  man  in  that  position  who  could  unbend  him 
self  and  mix  up  with  the  boys.  There  never  was  a  chap 
lain  more  popular  than  the  "Wisconsin  preacher"  was. 
It  did  not  occur  to  me  that  I  was  placing  the  chaplain  in 
an  unfavorable  position  before  the  public,  by  wearing  his 
coat.  Nothing  occurred  to  me,  that  day,  except  that  we 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  79 

were  having  a  high  old  time.  Finally,  after  dark,  one  of 
our  boys  got  into  a  row  with  a  loafer  in  a  saloon,  and  picked 
the  loafer  up  and  tossed  him  through  the  window,  to  the 
sidewalk.  This  was  very  wrong,  but  it  couldn't  be  helped. 
There  was  a  great  noise,  cries  for  the  provost  guard,  and 
we  knew  that  the  only  way  to  get  out  of  the  scrape  honor 
ably,  would  be  to  get  out  real  quick,  so  we  mounted  and 
rode  to  our  camp.  My  horse  was  the  fastest  and  I  got 
home  first,  unsaddled  my  horse  and  went  to  the  tent,  took 
off  the  chaplain's  coat  and  hung  it  up  carefully,  and  was 
at  work  writing  a  letter,  and  thinking  how  my  horse  acted 
as  though  he  had  been  on  sprees  before,  he  enjoyed  it  so, 
when  I  heard  a  noise  outside,  and  it  was  evident  that  the 
provcst  guard  had  followed  us  to  camp,  and  were  making 
complaint  to  the  colonel  about  our  conduct  down  town. 
Finally  the  guard  went  away,  and  shortly  the  colonel  and 
the  adjutant  called  at  our  tent  and  inquired  for  the  chap 
lain.  I  told  them  the  chaplain  had  been  away  most  of  the 
day,  and  had  not  returned.  The  colonel  and  the  adjutant 
winked  at  each  other,  and  asked  me  if  he  wasn't  away  a 
good  deal.  I  told  them  that  he  was  away  some.  They 
asked  me  :f  I  never  noticed  that  his  breath  had  a  peculiar 
smell.  I  told  them  that  it  was  occasionally  a  little  loud. 
They  went  away  thoughtfully.  Now  that  I  think  of  it  I 
ought  to  have  explained  that  the  peculiarity  of  the  chaplain's 
breath  was  caused  from  eating  pickled  onions  of  the  sani 
tary  stores,  but  it  did  not  occur  to  me  at  the  time.  After 
a  while  the  chaplain  came  back,  asked  me  if  anybody  had 
died  during  the  day,  took  a  drink  of  blackberry  brandy  for 
what  ailed  him,  and  we  icti»-fid.  Ths  next  morning  thert 


80  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

was  a  circus.  The  little  town  boasted  a  daily  paper,  and 
it  contained  the  following: 

"  The  community  is  prepared  to  overlook  an  occasional 
scene  of  hilarity  among  the  Federal  soldiers  stationed  in 
this  vicinity,  but  when  a  gang  of  roysterers  is  led  by  a 
chaplain,  as  was  the  case  yesterday,  all  right-minded  people 
will  be  indignant.  It  is  said  by  our  informant  that  the 
chaplain  of  a  certain  cavalry  regiment  was  the  liveliest  one 
of  the  crowd,  that  he  rode  into  a  billiard  room,  caused  his 
horse  to  place  its  forefeet  on  the  bar,  and  that  he  played  a 
better  game  of  billiards  on  horseback  than  many  worldly 
men  can  play  on  foot.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  commanding 
officer  to  discipline  his  chaplain.  The  chaplain  also  beat 
the  boys  several  horse  races  while  in  town,  and  they  say  he 
is  a  perfect  horseman,  and  has  one  of  the  finest  horses  ever 
seen  here,  which  he  probably  stole." 

I  had  a  boy  bring  me  a  paper  every  morning,  and  I  read 
the  article  before  the  chaplain  awoke,  and  destroyed  the 
paper.  Early  the  next  morning  the  colonel  sent  for  the 
chaplain,  placed  him  under  arrest,  and  the  good  man  came 
back  to  the  tent  feeling  pretty  bad.  I  asked  him  what  was 
wrong,  and  he  said  he  was  under  arrest  for  conduct  un 
becoming  an  officer  and  a  gentleman.  He  said  charges 
were  preferred  against  him  for  drunkenness  and  dis 
orderly  conduct,  horse-racing,  playing  billiards  on  horse 
back,  riding  his  horse  into  a  saloon  and  trying  to  jump 
him  over  the  bar,  and  lots  of  things  too  numerous  to  men 
tion.  I  felt  sorry  for  him,  and  told  him  I  had  been  fear 
ful  all  along  that  he  would  get  into  trouble  by  going  away 
from  me  so  much,  and  associating  with  the  chaplains  of 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  81 

the  other  regiments,  but  I  had  never  supposed  it  would 
come  to  this. 

"Wine  is  a  mocker/'  said  I,  becoming  warmed  up, 
"and  none  of  us  can  afford  to  tamper  with  it.  With  me, 
it  does  not  make  so  much  difference,  as  I  have  no  reputa 
tion  but  that  which  is  already,  lost,  but  you,  my  dear  sir, 
think  of  your  position.  Go  to  the  colonel  and  confess  all, 
and  ask  him  to  forgive  you,"  and  I  wiped  my  eyes  on  my 
coat  sleeve. 

"But. I  was  not  drunk,"  said  the  chaplain,  indignantly. 
( '  I  was  not  in  a  saloon,  and  never  saw  a  game  of  billiards 
in  my  life.  I  was  over  to  the  New  Jersey  regiment,  talk* 
ing  with  their  chaplain  about  getting  up  a  revival,  among 
the  soldiers,"  and  the  good  man  groaned  as  he  said,  "it  is 
a  case  of  mistaken  identity. " 

"  Bully,  elder,"  said  I.  "  If  you  can  make  the  court- 
martial  believe  you,  you  will  be  all  right,  and  you  will  not 
be  cashiered.  But  it  looks  dark,  very  dark,  for  you.  May 
heaven  help  you." 

The  chaplain  was  worried  all  the  morning,  and  the 
officers  and  men  joked  him  unmercifully.  At  noon  the 
chaplain  was  released  from  arrest,  as  we  were  to  move  at 
four  p.  M.,  and  he  begged  so  to  be  allowed  to  accompany 
the  regiment.  The  colonel  told  him  he  could  be  tried 
when  we  got  back,  and  he  was  happy.  There  was  a  great 
commotion  as  the  regiment  broke  up  its  camp  and  got 
ready  to  move.  There  was  the  usual  crowd  of  negresses 
who  had  been  doing  washing  for  the  soldiers,  to  be  paid  on 
pay  day,  and  we  were  going  away,  no  one  knew  where,  and 
no  one  knew  when  we  would  meet  pay  day.  There  were 
saloon-keepers  with  bills  against  officers,  and  standing-off 


82  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE   W.  PECK 

creditors  was  just  about  as  hard  in  the  army  as  at  home. 
I  couldn't  see  much  difference.  But  finally  everything 
was  ready,  the  ammunition  wagons,  wagon  train  of  stores, 
and  a  battery  of  little  guns,  about  three  pounders,  had 
been  added.  I  didn't  like  the  battery.  It  seemed  to  me. 
hard  enough  to  kill  our  fellow  citizens  with  revolver  balls, 
without  shooting  them  with  cannon.  At  4  p.  M.  the 
bugle  sounded  <(  forward,"  arid  with  the  clanking  of  sabers, 
rattling  of  hoofs  and  wagons,  we  marched  outside  the 
picket  line,  past  the  cemetery  where  my  deceased  friends 
were  buried,  and  were  going  towards  the  enemy.  The 
chaplain  and  myself  were  riding  behind  the  colonel,  when 
the  colonel  asked  the  good  man  to  ride  up  to  a  log  that 
was  beside  the  road,  and  make  his  horse  put  his  fore  feet 
upon  it,  as  he  did  on  the  bar  in  the  saloon.  I  felt  sorry 
for  the  chaplain,  and  I  rode  up  to  the  log,  and  had  Jeff 
put  his  feet  up  on  it.  Then  I  rode  back  and  saluted  the 
colonel  and  told  him  it  was  I  who  had  done  the  wicked 
things  the  chaplain  was  accused  of,  and  I  told  him  how  the 
chaplain  was  using  my  coat,  so  I  put  on  his,  with  the 
shoulder  straps  on,  and  all  about  it.  He  laughed  at  first 
and  then  said,  "Then  you  are  under  arrest.  You  may 
dismount  and  walk  and  lead  your  horse  until  further 
orders."  I  dismounted,  like  a  little  man,  and  for  five 
miles  I  walked,  keeping  up  with  the  regiment.  Finally 
the  colonel  sung  out,  "gallop,  march,"  and  I  got  on  my 
horse.  I  reasoned  that  the  order  to  gallop  was  "further 
orders,"  and  that  as  he  knew  I  couldn't  very  well  gallop 
on  foot  he  must  have  meant  for  me  to  get  on.  We  gal 
loped  for  about  ten  miles,  and  were  ordered  to  halt,  when 
I  dismounted  and  led  my  horse  up  to  the  colonel,  and 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION. 

saluted  him.  *'  Well,  you  must  have  had  a  hard  time 
keeping  up  with  us  on  foot/'  said  he.  I  told  him  it 
rested  me  to  go  on  foot.  We  were  just  going  into  camp 
for  the  night,  and  the  colonel  said,  "  Well,  as  you  are 
rested  so  much  from  your  walk,  you  may  go  out  with  the 
foraging  party  and  get  some  feed  for  your  horse  and  the 
chaplain's."  I  was  willing  to  do  anything  for  a  quiet  life, 
so  I  fell  in  with  a  party  of  about  forty,  under  a  lieutenant^ 
and  we  rode  off  into  the  country  to  tteal  forage  from  a 
plantation,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for  Confederates  who 
might  object.  I  guess  we  rode  away  from  camp  two  or 
three  miles,  when  we  came  to  a  magnificant  plantation 
house,  and  outhouses,  negro  quarters,  etc.  The  house  was 
on  a  hill,  in  a  grove  of  live  oaks,  and  had  immense  white 
pillars,  or  columns  in  front.  As  we  rode  up  to  the  planta 
tion  the  boys  scattered  all  over  the  premises.  This  was 
the  first  foraging  expedition  I  had  ever  been  with,  and  1 
thought  all  we  went  for  was  to  get  forage  for  our  horses, 
so  I  went  to  a  shock  of  corn  fodder  and  took  all  that  i 
could  strap  on  my  saddle,  and  was  ready  to  go,  when  I 
passed  a  smoke  house  and  found  some  of  the  boys  taking 
smoked  hams  and  sides  of  bacon.  I  asked  one  of  the  boys 
if  they  had  permission  to  take  hams  and  things,  and  he 
laughed  and  said,  "everything  goes,"  and  he  handed  me  a 
ham  which  I  hung  on  to  my  saddle.  Then  the  lieutenant 
told  me  to  go  up  in  front  of  the  house  and  stand  guard, 
and  prevent  any  soldier  from  entering  the  house.  I  rode 
up  to  the  house,  where  there  was  an  old  lady  and  a  young 
married  woman  with  a  little  girl  by  her  side.  They  were 
evidently  much  annoyed  and  frightened,  though  too 
Droud  to  show  it,  and  I  told  them  they  need  have  no  fear, 


84  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

as  the  men  were  only  after  a  little  forage  for  their  horses. 
The  old  lady  looked  at  the  ham  on  my  saddle  and  asked 
me  if  the  horses  eat  meat,  and  I  said,  "No,  but  sometimes 
the  men  eat  horses."  I  thought  that  was  funny.  The 
young  woman  was  beautiful,  and  the  child  was  perfectly 
enchanting.  They  were  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  railing 
from  me,  and  my  horse  kept  working  up  towards  them, 
rubbing  his  nose  on  the  pickets,  and  finally  his  nose 
touched  the  clasped  hands  of  the  mother  and  child.  The 
kittle  girl  laughed  and  patted  the  horse  on  the  nose,  while 
the  mother  drew  back.  It  was  almost  dark  and  the  horse 
was  almost  covered  with  corn  fodder,  but  the  little  girl 
screamed  and  said: 

''Mamma,  that  is  Jeff,  papa's  horse!" 

The  mamma  looked  at  me  with  a  wild,  hunted  look, 
then  at  the  horse,  rushed  down  the  steps  and  threw  her 
arms  around  the  neck  of  the  horse  and  sobbed  in  a  despair 
ing  manner: 

"0,  where  is  my  husband?  Where  is  he?  Is  he 
dead?" 

"My  son,  my  son!"  cried  the  old  lady. 

"Bring  me  my  papa,  you  bad  man!"  said  the  little 
child,  and  I  was  surrounded  by  the  three. 

Gentle  reader,  I  have  been  through  many  scenes  in  my 
life,  and  have  been  many  times  where  it  was  not  the  toss 
of  a  copper  whether  death  or  life  was  my  portion,  and  I 
had  some  nerve  to  help  me  through,  but  I  never  was  in  a 
place  that  tried  me  like  that  one.  I  had  been  captured  by 
the  father  of  this  little  child,  the  husband  of  this  beauti 
ful,  proud  woman,  the  son  of  this  charming  old  lady.  I 
had  seen  him  brought  in,  dead,  had  seen  him  buried,  and 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  85 

nad  thrown  a  bunch  of  roses  in  his  grave.  Now  I  was  sur 
rounded  by  these  mourners,  mourners  when  they  should 
know  the  worst.  Cold  chills  ran  all  over  me,  and  cold 
perspiration  was  on  my  brow. 

"Is  he  dead?"  they  all  sh rated  together. 

I  hate  a  liar,  on  general  principles,  and  yet  there  are 
times  when  a  lie  is  so  much  easier  to  tell  than  truth.  I 
did  not  want  to  be  a  murderer,  and  I  knew,  by  the  dread 
ful  light  in  the  eyes  of  that  lovely  wife,  as  she  looked  up 
at  me  from  the  neck  of  the  horse,  her  face  as  white  as 
snow,  that  if  I  told  the  truth  she  would  fall  dead  right 
where  she  was.  If  I  told  the  truth  that  blessed  old  lady's 
heart  would  be  broken,  and  that  little  child's  face  would 
not  have  any  more  smiles,  during  the  war,  for  mamma  and 
grandma,  and,  with  a  hoarse  voice,  and  choking,  and  try 
ing  to  swallow  something  that  seemed  as  big  as  a  baseball 
in  my  throat,  I  deliberately  lied  to  them.  I  told  them  the 
young  man  who  rode  this  horse  had  been  captured,  after  a 
gallant  fight,  unharmed,  and  sent  north.  That  he  was  so 
brave  that  our  boys  fell  in  love  with  him,  and  there  was 
nothing  too  good  for  him  in  our  army,  and  that  he  would 
be  well  taken  care  of,  and  exchanged  soon,  I  had  no  doubt, 
and  bade  them  not  to  worry,  but  to  look  at  the  discomforts 
and  annoyances  of  war  as  leniently  as  possible,  and  all 
would  be  well  soon. 

"Thank  heaven!  Take  all  we  have  got  in  welcome/' 
said  the  old  lady,  as  a  heavenly  smile  came  over  her  face. 
"  My  boy  is  safe." 

"0,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  little  mother,  as  a  lovely 
smile  chased  a  dimple  all  around  her  mouth,  and  corraled 
it  in  her  left  cheek,  while  a  pair  of  navy-blue  eyes  looked 


66  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOilGB   W.  PECK 

up  at  me  as  though  she  would  hug  me  if  I  was  not  a 
Yankee,  eyes  that  I  have  seen  a  thousand  times  since,  in 
dreams,  often  with  tears  in  them. 

"You  are  a  darling  good  man/'  said  the  little  girl, 
dancing  on  the  gravel  path.  The  mother  blushed  and  said, 
"Why,  Maudie,  don't  be  so  rude";  and  there  was  a  shout: 

"Fall  in!" 

The  lieutenant  rode  up  to  me  and  asked,  as  he  noticed 
the  glad  smiles  on  the  faces  of  the  ladies,  if  this  was  a 
family  reunion,  and,  apologizing  for  being  compelled  to 
raid  the  plantation,  we  rode  away.  I  was  afraid  they 
would  mention  the  news  I  had  brought  them,  and  the 
lieutenant  would  tell  the  truth,  so  I  was  glad  to  move.  I 
was  glad  to  go,  for  if  I  had  remained  longer  I  would  have 
cried  like  a  baby,  and  given  them  back  the  horse,  and 
walked  to  camp.  As  we  moved  away,  I  took  out  my 
knife  and  cut  the  string  that  held  the  smoked  ham  on  my 
saddle,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  it  drop  on  the 
path  before  the  house.  I  could  not  give  back  the  husband 
of  the  blue-eyed  woman,  the  son  of  the  saintly  Southern 
mother,  the  father  of  the  sweet  child,  lut  I  could  leave 
chat  ham.  As  we  rode  back  to  camp  that  beautiful  moon 
light  night,  I  did  not  join  in  the  singing  of  the  boys,  or 
the  jokes.  I  just  thought  of  that  happy  home  I  had  left, 
and  how  it  would  be  stricken,  later,  when  the  news  was 
brought  them,  and  wondered  if  that  fearful  1H  I  had  been 
telling  them  was  justifiable,  under  the  circumstances,  and 
it  it  would  be  laid  up  against  me,  charged  up  in  the  book 
above.  That  night  I  slept  on  the  ground  on  some  corn  fodder 
and  dreamed  of  nothing  but  blue-eyed  mamma'?  and  golden- 
haired  Maudie's  and  white-haired  angel  grandmothers. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  87 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

"BOOTS  AND  SADDLES"— "I  AM  THE  COLONEL'S  ORDERLY"— 
RIDING  FIFTY  MILES  ON  AN  EMPTY  STOMACH—  THE  CHAPLAIN 
APPEARS  —  I  AM  WOUNDED  BY  A  LOCOMOTIVE  AND  A  PIECE  OF 
COAL  —  I  NEARLY  KILL  AN  OLD  MAN. 

When  our  foraging  party  got  back  to  camp,  and  I  un 
loaded  the  corn  fodder  from  my  horse,  I  was  about  as  dis 
gusted  with  war  as  a  man  could  be.  The  faces  of  those 
people  I  had  met  at  the  plantation  rose  up  before  me,  and 
I  could  imagine  how  they  would  look  when  they  heard  that 
the  Confederate  soldier  who  was  their  all,  was  dead.  I 
hoped  that  they  would  never  hear  of  it.  While  I  was 
thinking  the  matter  over,  and  grooming  my  horse,  the 
chaplain  came  along  and  took  nearly  all  the  fodder  I  had 
brought  in,  and  fed  it  to  his  horse,  and  asked  me  where 
the  chickens  and  hams,  and  sweet  potatoes  were.  I  told 
him  I  didn't  get  any.  Then  he  spoke  very  plainly  to  me, 
plainer  than  he  had  ever  spoken  before,  and  told  me  that 
fodder  for  horses  was  not  all  that  soldiers  got  when  they 
went  out  foraging.  He  said  I  wanted  to  snatch  anything 
that  was  lying  around  loose,  that  could  be  eaten.  I  asked 
him  if  the  government  did  not  furnish  rations  enough  for 
him  to  live  comfortably,  in  addition  to  the  sanitary  stores. 
He  said  sometimes  he  yearned  for  chicken.  Then  I  told 
him  his  salary  was  sufficient  to  buy  such  luxuries.  He  was 
hot,  and  talked  back  to  me>  and  told  me  he  didn't  propose 
to  be  lectured  by  no  red-headed  private  as  to  his  duties,  or 
hia  conduct,  and  he  wanted  me  to  understand  that  I  was 


88  HOW  PEIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

expected  to  forage  for  him  as  well  as  myself,  and  not  to  let 
another  soldier  come  into  camp  with  a  better  assortment  of 
the  luxuries  afforded  by  the  country,  than  I  did.  He  said 
that  he  picked  me  out  as  a  man  that  would  fill  the  bill,  and 
do  his  duty.  I  told  him  if  he  had  selected  me  from  all  the 
men  in  the  regiment  as  being  the  most  expert  sneak  thief, 
he  had  made  a  mistake,  and  I  would  be  teetotally  d — d  if  I 
would  go  through  the  country  stealing  hens  and  chickens 
for  any  chaplain  that  ever  lived,  and  he  could  put  that  in 
his  pipe  and  smoke  it.  It  was  pretty  sassy  talk  for  a  private 
soldier  to  indulge  in  towards  a  chaplain,  but  I  was  so  dis 
gusted  to  hear  a  man  who  should  discountenance  anything 
uiisoldierly,  talk  so  flippantly  about  taking  from  the  women 
and  children  of  the  country  what  little  they  had  to  live  on, 
because  we  had  the  power,  their  men  folks  being  away  in 
the  army,  that  I  got  on  my  ear,  as  it  were.  I  told  him 
that  I  was  not  much  mashed  on  war,  and  hoped  I  would 
never  have  to  fire  a  gun  at  a  human  being,  but  now  that  I 
was  into  the  business,  I  would  fight  if  I  had  to,  or  do  any 
duty  of  a  soldier,  but  I  would  be  cussed  if  I  would  rob  hen 
roosts,  and  he  didn't  weigh  enough  to  compel  me  to.  Then 
he  said  I  could  go  back  to  my  company,  as  he  didn't  want 
a  man  around  him  that  hadn't  sand  enough  to  do  his  duty. 
I  asked  him  if  I  hadn't  better  wait  till  after  supper,  it 
being  after  dark,  but  he  said  I  could  go  right  away,  and 
he  would  have  another  man  detailed  to  take  my  place.  I 
was  discharged,  because  I  struck  against  stealing  hens. 
I  saddled  my  horse,  took  my  share  of  the  fodder,  and 
started  for  my  company  to  return  to  duty  a3  a  soldier.  On 
the  way  to  my  company  I  saw  a  half  a  dozen  soldiers,  cov 
ered  with  mud,  and  their  horses  covered  with  foam,  ride 


"YOU  ABB  A  DARLING  GOOD  MAtf,"  8AID  THB  ^^ 


PUT  DOWN   THE   REBELLION.  89 

np  to  the  colonel's  tent,  and  I  stopped  to  see  what  was  the 
matter.  A  sergeant  gave  the  colonel  a  dispatch,  which  he 
tore  open,  read  it,  looked  excited,  and  then  he  turned  to 
me  and  said,  "Kide  to  every  commanding  officer  of  a  com 
pany  and  say  with  my  compliments,  that  '  Boots  and  Sad 
dles  '  will  be  sounded  in  ten  minutes,  and  every  man  must 
he  in  line,  mounted,  within  five  minutes  after  the  call  is 
sounded,  then  come  back  here."  Well,  I  was  about  as  ex 
cited  as  the  colonel,  and  I  rode  to  every  captain's  tent  and 
gave  the  command.  Some  of  the  captains,  who  were  just 
sitting  down  to  supper,  asked,  "  What  you  giving  us/' 
thinking  it  was  some  foolishness  on  my  part.  One  captain 
said  if  I  came  around  with  any  more  such  orders  he  would 
run  a  saber  through  me  and  turn  it  around  a  few  times ; 
another  said  to  his  lieutenant,  "That  is  the  chaplain's 
idiot,  that  the  boys  play  jokes  on  ;  some  corporal  has  prob 
ably  told  him  to  carry  that  message." 

I  got  all  around  the  companies,  and  went  back  to  the 
colonel,  and  told  him  that  I  had  delivered  his  invitation, 
but  the  most  of  the  captains  sent  regrets  in  one  way  and 
another,  and  one  was  going  to  jab  me  with  a  saber.  He 
called  the  bugler,  and  told  him  to  blow  "  Boots  and  Sad 
dles,"  and  in  five  minutes  to  sound,  ft  To  Horse;"  then  he 
turned  to  me  and  said,  ''  You  will  be  my  orderly  tonight, 
and  you  will  have  the  liveliest  ride  you  ever  experienced. 
Buckle  up  your  saddle  girth  and  lead  my  horse  out  here." 
I  told  the  colonel  I  should  have  to  buckle  up  my  own 
belt  a  few  holes,  as  I  hadn't  had  any  supper,  when  he  told 
his  servant  to  bring  me  out  what  was  left  of  his  supper, 
which  he  did,  one  small  hard  tack.  I  eat  pretty  hearty, 
and  let  my  horse  fill  himself  all  he  could  on  corn  stalks,, 


yO  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   \V.  PECK 

and  in  a  short  time  the'  bugle  calls  were  echoing  through 
the  woods,  men  were  saddling  up  and  mounting,  and  pick 
ing  up  camp  utensils  in  the  dark,  and  swearing  some  at 
being  ordered  out  in  that  unceremonious  manner  when 
they  had  got  all  ready  to  have  a  night's  rest.  There  was 
not  near  as  much  swearing  as  I  had  supposed  there  would 
be,  but  there  was  enough.  The  chaplain  came  rushing  up 
to  where  I  was  with  his  coat  off,  and  asked  me  what  was 
the  matter,  and  the  colonel  having  gone  to  the  major's 
tent,  I  answered  him  that  we  were  going  to  have  the 
liveliest  ride  he  ever  experienced,  and  not  to  forget  it,  and 
that  probably  before  morning  we  would  have  the  biggest 
fight  of  the  season. 

"  Come  and  help  me  catch  my  horse,"  said  the  chaplain, 
"  I  turned  him  loose  so  he  could  roll  over,  and  he  has 
stampeded/' 

"  Go  catch  your  own  horse,"  said  I  with  lofty  dignity, 
"and  steal  your  own  chickens.  I  am  serving  on  the 
staff  of  the  commanding  officer,  sir.  I  am  the  colonel's 
orderly!" 

I  thought  that  would  break  the  chaplain  all  up,  but  it 
didn't.  "  The  devil  you  say,"  remarked  the  chaplain,  as 
he  went  off  in  the  darkness,  whistling  for  his  horse.  Gen 
tle  reader,  did  you  ever  ride  on  horseback  fifty  miles  in  one 
night,  on  an  empty  stomach,  after  having  ridden  thirty 
miles  during  the  day?  If  you  never  have  accomplished 
such  a  feat,  you  don't  know  anything  about  suffering.  0, 
to  this  day  I  can  feel  my  stomach  freeze  itself  to  my  back 
bone.  We  started  soon  after  orders  were  given  on  a  gallop, 
and  if  we  walked  our  horses  a  minute  during  the  whole 
night,  I  did  not  know  it.  We  marched  by  "fours,"  but  I 


PUT  DOWV  THE  KEBELLlOlSr.  01 

had  the  whole  road  to  myself,  as  I  rode  behind  the  colonel. 
I  wanted  to  know  where  we  were  going  and  what  for,  and 
once,  when  the  colonel  fell  back  to  where  I  was,  while  he 
was  taking  a  drink  out  of  a  canteen,  I  said,  "  This  is  a 
little  sudden,  ain't  it?"  My  idea  was  to  draw  him  out, 
and  get  him  to  tell  me  all  about  the  destination  of  the 
expedition,  and  its  object.  The  colonel  got  through  drink 
ing,  and  as  he  knocked  the  cork  into  the  canteen,  he  said, 
"Yes,  this  is  a  little  spry/'  That  was  all  he  said,  and 
evidently  he  wanted  me  to  draw  my  own  inference,  which 
I  did.  Pretty  soon  the  orderly  sergeant  of  the  company 
that  was  on  the  advance,  directly  behind  the  colonel,  rode 
up  to  me  and ,  asked  me  if  I  had  any  idea  where  we  were 
going.  He  said  he  had  seen  me  talking  with  the  colonel, 
and  thought  maybe  he  had  told  me  th«  programme.  He 
added  that  he  thought  it  was  a  shame  that  men  couldn't 
be  allowed  a  little  rest.  I  told  him  that  I  had  just  been 
talking  with  the  colonel  about  it,  but  I  had  no  authority 
to  communicate  what  he  said.  However,  I  would  assure 
the  orderly  that  we  were  going  to  have  ths  liveliest  ride  he 
ever  experienced.  I  knew  I  was  safe  in  saying  that,  and 
the  orderly  remarked  that  he  had  about  come  to  that  con 
clusion  himself,  and  he  left  me.  I  had  nerer  expected  to 
rise,  on  pure  merit,  to  that  proud  position  of  coloneFs 
orderly,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  if  that  nig'ht's  ride  did 
not  founder  me,  or  drive  my  spine  up  into  the  top  of  my 
hat,  or  glue  the  two  sides  of  my  empty  stomach  together, 
so  they  would  never  come  apart,  that  I  would  try  to  con 
duct  myself  so  that  the  commanding  officers  would  all  cry 
for  me  and  want  me  on  their  staffs.  I  argued,  to  myself, 
as  we  rode  along,  that  the  position  of  colonel's  orderly 


93  HOW   PKIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

could  not  be  so  very  unsafe,  as  it  did  not  stand  to  reason 
that  a  colonel  would  go  into  any  place  that  was  particularly 
dangerous,  as  long  as  he  could  send  other  officers.  I  knew 
that  colonels  in  action  should  ride  behind  their  regiments, 
and  wondered  if  this  colonel  knew  his  place>  or  would  he 
be  fool  enough  to  go  right  ahead  of  his  men?  I  was  going 
to  speak  to  him  about  it,  if  we  ever  stopped  galloping  long 
enough,  but  everything  was  jarred  out  of  my  head. 

A  fellow  can  think  of  a  good  many  things,  riding  on  a 
gallop  all  night,  and  I  guess  I  thought  of  about  everything 
that  night.  There  were  few  interruptions  of  the  march. 
There  were  about  four  stops,  two  being  caused  by  horses 
falling  down  and  being  run  over  by  those  behind  them, 
and  two  by  carbines  going  off  accidentally.  One  man  was 
dismounted  and  run  over  by  half  the  horses  in  the  regi 
ment,  and  when  he  was  pulled  out  from  under  the  horses 
he  asked  for  a  chew  of  tobacco,  and  saying  he  was  marked 
for  life  by  horse  shoes,  he  kicked  his  horse  in  the  ribs  for 
falling  down,  climbed  on  and  said  the  procession  might 
move  on.  He  was  all  cut  to  pieces  by  horse's  hoofs,  but 
he  was  full  of  fight  the  next  morning.  Another  soldier 
had  his  big  toe  shot  off  by  the  accidental  discharge  of  a 
carbine,  and  when  the  regiment  stopped,  and  the  colonel 
asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  stop  there  and  wait  for  an  am 
bulance  to  overtake  him,  he  said,  "  Not  if  there  is  going  to 
be  a  fight.  I  don't  use  a  big  toe  much,  anyway,  and  if 
there  is  a  fight  ahead,  I  want  to  be  there,  if  I  haven't  got 
a  toe  left  on  my  feet."  The  colonel  smiled  and  said,  "all 
right,  boy."  I  never  saw  fellows  who  were  so  anxious  to 
fight,  ami  I  wondered  how  much  money  it  would  take  to 
induce  me  to  £O  int°  a  fight  when  I  was  crippled  up 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  93 

enough  to  be  excused.  Along  toward  morning  everybody 
felt  that  we  were  so  far  into  the  enemy's  lines  that  there 
must  be  some  object  in  the  long  ride,  and  the  probabilities 
of  a  fight  seemed  to  be  settled  in  every  man's  mind.  Up 
hill  and  down  we  galloped,  until  it  seemed  to  me  I  should 
fall  off  my  horse  and  die.  About  half  an  hour  before  day 
light  the  command  was  halted,  and  the  officers  of  each 
company  were  sent  for,  and  they  surrounded  the  colonel, 
separated  from  the  men,  and  he  said:  ** There  is  a  town 
ahead,  about  four  miles,  garrisoned  by  confederate  troops. 
We  are  to  charge  it  at  daylight,  drive  the  enemy  out  the 
other  side  of  town,  kill  as  many  as  possible,  and  when  they 
go  out  they  will  be  attacked  by  another  Union  regiment 
that  has  been  sent  around  to  the  rear.  There  is  a  railroad 
there,  and  a  bridge  across  a  river,  Confederate  stores  of 
ammunition,  provisions,  cotton,  etc.  The  stores  are  to  be 
burned,  the  railroad  bridge  destroyed,  the  track  torn  up, 
engines,  if  there  are  any,  are  to  be  ditched,  and  everything 
destroyed  except  private  residences.  You  understand?" 
The  officers  said  they  did,  and  they  went  back  to  their 
companies  and  ordered  the  men  to  get  a  bite  to  eat.  When 
the  officers  had  gone  I  was  pretty  scared,  and  I  said, 
"  Colonel,  suppose  the  rebels  do  not  get  out  of  that  town." 
The  colonel  was  chewing  a  hard-tack  when  he  answered. 
Daylight  was  just  streaking  up  from  the  East,  and  he  held 
a  piece  of  the  hard-tack  up  to  the  light  to  pick  a  worm  out 
of  it,  after  which  he  answered:  "If  they  don't  get  out,  we 
will,  those  of  us  who  are  not  killed.  I  always  like  to  eat 
hard-tack  in  the  dark,  then  I  can't  see  the  worms."  To 
say  that  I  was  reassured  would  be  untrue.  I  admired  a 
man  who  could  mingle  business  with  pleasure,  as  he  did 


94  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

when  talking  of  possible  death  and  worms  in  hard-tack, 
but  death  was  never  an  interesting  subject  to  me.  I 
wanted  to  talk  with  the  colonel  more,  and  asked  him  if 
colonels  often  get  killed,  and  if  an  orderly  was  exactly  safe 
in  his  immediate  vicinity,  but  he  leaned  against  a  tree  and 
went  to  sleep,  and  I  stood  near,  as  wide  awake  as  any  man 
ever  was.  I  wondered  whose  idea  it  was  to  send  us  fifty 
miles  into  the  Confederacy  to  destroy  provisions  and  rail 
roads.  Did  they  suppose  the  Confederates  didn't  want 
anything  to  eat.  I  thought  it  was  a  mean  man  or  govern 
ment  that  would  burn  up  good  wholesome  provisions  be 
cause  they  couldn't  eat  them  themselves.  And  who  owned 
this  railroad  that  was  going  to  be  torn  up?  Why  burn  a 
bridge  that  probably  cost  several  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
As  I  was  thinking  these  things  over  and  finding  fault  with  the 
persons  responsible  for  such  foolishness,  the  chaplain,  who 
had  not  showed  up  during  the  night,  came  up  to  where 
I  was,  without  any  hat,  leading  his  horse,  which  was  lame. 
The  first  thing  he  asked  me  how  I  would  trade  horses. 
They  all  wanted  my  Jeff,  but  he  was  not  in  the  market. 
The  chaplain  said  he  had  caught  up  with  the  regiment 
about  midnight,  and  had  rode  at  the  rear,  with  the  horse- 
doctor.  He  said  this  expedition  was  foolish,  and  had  no 
object  except  to  try  the  endurance  of  the  horses  and  men. 
I  told  him  that  we  were  going  to  have  a  fight  in  less  than  an 
hour,  and  burn  a  town,  and  probably  we  would  all  be 
killed.  The  chaplain  turned  pale  and  looked  faint. 

I  had  read  about  hell,  and  seen  pictures  of  it,  from  the 
imagination  of  some  eminent  artist,  but  the  hell  I  had 
read  of,  and  seen  pictured,  was  not  a  marker  to  the  experi 
ence  of  the  next  three  hours.  In  a  few  minutes  the  colonel 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  &5 

woke  up,  and  the  regiment  mounted  and  moved  on.  An  ad 
vance  guard  was  put  further  out  than  before,  with  orders  to 
charge  the  rebel  picket  almost  into  town,  and  then  hold  up 
for  the  rest  of  us.  As  we  neared  the  town  it  was  just  light 
enough  to  see.  The  advance  captured  the  picket  post 
without  a  shot  being  fired,  and  moved  right  into  town, 
followed  by  the  regiment,  and  we  actually  rode  right  into 
the  camp  of  the  boys  in  gray,  and  woke  them  up  by  firing. 
They  scattered,  coatless  and  shoeless,  firing  as  they 
ran,  and  in  five  minutes  they  were  all  captured,  killed, 
gone  out  of  town,  or  were  in  hiding  in  the  buildings. 
Then  began  the  conflagration.  Immense  buildings,  filled 
with  goods,  or  bales  of  cotton,  were  fired,  and  soon  the 
black  smoke  and  falling  walls  made  a  scene  that  was  enough 
to  s^t  a  recruit  crazy.  A  train  came  in  just  as  the  fire  was 
at  its  greatest,  and  a  squad  of  men  was  sent  to  burn  it,  and 
the  colonel  told  me  to  go  and  capture  the  engineer  and 
bring  him  to  the  headquarters.  I  rode  up  as  near  to  the 
engine  as  my  horse  would  go  and  told  the  engineer  I 
wanted  him.  He  turned  a  cock  somewhere,  and  a  jet  of 
steam  came  out  towards  me  that  fairly  blinded  me  and  the 
horse,  and  I  couldn't  see  the  engine  any  more.  My  horse 
turned  tail,  the  engineer  threw  a  lump  of  coal  and  hit  me 
on  the  head,  and  I  went  away  and  told  the  colonel  the 
engineer  wouldn't  come,  and  beside  had  scalded  me  with 
steam,  and  hit  me  with  a  lump  of  coal.  The  colonel  said 
the  engineer  could  be  arrested  for  such  conduct.  Pretty 
soon  the  train  was  on  fire,  and  one  of  our  boys  clubbed  the 
engineer,  got  on  the  engine  and  run  it  on  to  a  side  track 
and  ditched  it,  and  brought  the  engineer  up  to  headquar 
ters,  where  I  had  quite  a  talk  with  him  about  squirting 


96  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

steam  and  throwing  lumps  of  coal  at  peaceable  persons. 
Then  the  railroad  bridge  was  set  on  fire,  and  it  looked 
cruel  to  see  the  timbers  licked  up  by  flames,  but  when  the 
burning  trestle  fell  into  the  river  below,  it  was  a  grand,  an 
awful  sight.  I  came  out  of  the  fight  alive,  but  with  a  lump 
on  my  head  as  big  as  a  hen's  egg,  so  big  I  couldn't  wear- 
my  hat,  and  a  firm  determination  to  whip  that  engineer 
who  threw  the  lump  of  coal  when  I  could  catch  him  alone. 
We  cooked  a  late  breakfast  on  the  embers  of  the  ruins, 
and  after  eating,  I  noticed  a  sign,  "  Printing  Office,"  in 
front  of  a  residence  just  outside  the  burnt  district,  and 
asked  permission  to  go  there  and  print  a  paper,  with  an 
account  of  the  fight,  and  the  destruction  of  the  town. 
Permission  was  granted,  and  I  went  to  the  office  and  found 
an  old  man  and  two  daughters,  beautiful  girls,  but  in 
tensely  bitter  rebels.  The  old  man  was  near  eighty  years 
^Id,  and  he  said  he  could  whip  any  dozen  yankees.  I  told 
him  I  would  like  to  use  his  type  and  press,  but  he  said  if  I 
touched  a  thing  I  did  it  at  my  peril,  as  he  should  consider 
the  type  contaminated  by  the  touch  of  a  yankee.  The 
girls  felt  the  same  way,  but  I  talked  nice  to  them,  and  they 
didn't  kick  much  when  I  took  a  "stick"  and  began  to  set 
type.  I  worked  till  dinner  time,  when  they  asked  me  to 
take  dinner  with  them,  which  I  did.  During  the  conver 
sation  I  convinced  them  that  I  was  practically  a  non-com 
batant,  and  wouldn't  hurt  anybody  for  the  world.  I 
worked  till  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when  I 
noticed  that  the  girls,  who  had  been  up  on  the  house, 
looked  tickled  about  something,  and  presently  I  heard  some 
firing  at  the  edge  of  the  town,  some  yelling,  more  firing, 
bugle  calls  among  our  soldiers,  and  finally  there  was  an 


PUT  DOWN  THE  KEBELLION.  97 

absence  of  blue  coats,  and  I  looked  for  my  horse,  and  found 
the  old  man  leading  him  away.  I  halted  the  old  man,  and 
he  stopped  and  told  me  that  the  Confederates  had  come  into 
town  from  the  East  and  driven  our  cavalry  out  on  the 
other  side,  and  I  would  be  a  prisoner  in  about  five  minutes, 
and  he  laughed,  and  the  girls  clapped  their  hands,  and  I 
felt  as  though  my  time  had  come.  I  had  never  killed  an 
old  man  in  my  life,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  to  have  my 
horse  or  kill  him  in  his  tracks,  so  I  drew  my  revolver  and 
told  him  to  let  go  the  horse  or  he  was  a  dead  man.  It  was 
a  questionn  with  me  whether  I  could  hold  my  hand  still 
enough  to  kill  him,  if  he  didn't  let  go  the  horse,  and  I 
hoped  to  heaven  he  would  drop  the  bridle.  He  looked  so 
much  like  my  father  at  home  that  it  seemed  like  killing  a 
near  relative,  and  when  I  looked  at  the  two  beautiful 
daughters  on  the  gallery,  looking  at  us,  pale  as  death  I 
almost  felt  as  though  it  would  be  better  to  lose  the  ho*se 
and  be  captured,  then  to  put  a  bullet  through  the  gvay 
head  of  that  beautiful  old  man.  How  I  wished  thai  he 
was  a  young  fellow,  and  had  a  gun,  and  had  it  pointed  at 
me.  Then  I  could  kill  him  and  feel  as  though  it  was  s«lf- 
defense.  But  the  rebels  were  yelling  and  firing  over  the 
hill,  and  my  regiment  was  going  the  other  way  on  import 
ant  business,  and  it  was  a  question  with  me  whether  I 
should  kill  the  old  man,  and  see  his  life-blood  ebb  out  fchere 
in  front  of  his  children,  or  be  captured,  and  perhaps  shot  for 
burning  buildings.  I  decided  that  it  was  my  duty  to 
murder  him,  and  get  my  horse.  So  I  rested  my  revolver 
across  my  left  forearm,  and  took  deliberate  aim  at  his  left 
eye,  a  beautiful,  large,  expressive  gray  eye,  so  much  like 
my  father's  at  home  that  I  almost  imagined  I  was  about  to 


98  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

kill  the  father  who  loved  me.  I  heard  a  scream  on  the  gal 
lery,  and  the  blonde  girl  fainted  in  the  arms  of  her 
brunette  sister.  The  sister  said  to  me,  "Please  don't  kill 
my  father."  He  was  not  ten  feet  from  me,  and  I  said, 
"Drop  the  horse  or  you  die/'  The  old  man  trembled,  the 
girl  said,  "Pa,  give  the  man  his  horse,"  the  old  man 
dropped  the  bridle  and  walked  towards  the  house.  I 
mounted  the  horse  and  rode  off  towards  the  direction  my 
regiment  had  taken,  thanking  heaven  that  the  girl  had 
spoken  just  in  time,  and  that  I  had  not  been  compelled  to 
put  a  bullet  through  that  noble-looking  gray  head.  The 
face  haunted  me  all  the  way,  as  I  rode  along  to  catch  my 
regiment,  and  when  I  overtook  it,  and  rode  up  to  the 
colonel,  and  asked  him  what  in  thunder  he  wanted  to  go  off 
and  leave  me  to  fight  the  whole  southern  Confederacy  for, 
he  said,  "0,  get  out!  There  were  no  rebels  there.  That 
was  the  Indiana  regiment  that  started  out  day  before  yes 
terday,  to  get  on  the  other  side  of  the  town.  The  fellows 
were  shooting  some  cattle  for  food.  What  makes  you  look 
so  pale?  "  I  was  thinking  of  whether  a  man  ever  prospered 
who  killed  old  people. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  99 


CHAPTER  VHI. 

THREE  DATS  WITHOUT  Pood!  — THE  VALUE  OP  HARD  TACK  — A 
SILVER  WATCH  FOR  A  PINT  OF  MEAL  —  I  STEAL  CORN  FROM  A 
HUNGRY  MULE — THE  DELIRIUM  OF  HUNGER— I  DINE  ON 
MULE  —  I  CAPTURE  A  REBEL  RAM. 

After  overtaking  my  regiment,  and  enjoying  a  feeling 
of  safety  which  I  did  not  feel  in  the  presence  of  that  vio 
lent  old  man  who  laid  savage  hands  on  my  horse,  and  the 
girls,  I  began  to  reflect.  Of  course  the  old  man  was  not 
armed,  and  I  was,  but  how  did  I  know  but  those  Confed 
erate  girls  had  revolvers  concealed  about  their  persons,  and 
might  have  killed  me.  To  feel  that  I  was  once  more  safe 
with  my  regiment,  where  there  was  no  danger  as  long  as 
they  did  not  get  into  a  fight,  was  bliss  indeed,  and  I  rode 
along  in  silence,  wondering  when  the  cruel  war  would  be 
over,  and  what  all  this  riding  around  the  country,  burning 
buildings  and  tearing  up  railroad  tracks  amounted  to,  any 
way.  I  didn't  enlist  as  a  section  hand,  nor  a  railroad 
wrecker,  and  there  was  nothing  in  my  enlistment  papers 
that  said  anything  about  my  being  compelled  to  commit 
arson.  The  recruit-officer  who,  by  his  gilded  picture  of  the 
beauties  of  a  soldier's  life,  induced  me  to  enlist  as  a  soldier, 
never  mentioned  anything  that  would  lead  me  to  believe 
that  one  of  my  duties  would  be  to  touch  a  match  to  another 
man's  bales  of  cotton,  or  ditch  a  locomotive  belonging  to 
parties  who  never  did  me  any  harm,  and  who  had  a  right  to 
expect  dividends  from  their  railroad  stock.  If  I  had  the 
money  that  was  represented  in  the  stuff  destroyed  by  our 


100  HOW   PRIVATrj   GEORGE   W.   PECK 

troops  that  day,  I  could  run  a  daily  newspaper  for  years,  If 
it  didn't  have  a  subscriber  or  a  patent  medicine  advertise 
ment.  And  who  was  benefitted  by  such  wanton  destruction 
of  property.  As  we  rode  along  I  told  the  colonel  I  thought 
it  was  a  confounded  shame  to  do  as  we  had  done,  and  that 
such  a  use  of  power,  because  AVO  had  the  power,  was  un 
worthy  of  American  soldiers.  He  said  it  was  a  soldier's 
duty  to  obey  orders  and  not  talk  back,  and  if  he  heard  any 
more  moralizing  on  my  part  he  would  send  me  back  to  my 
company,  where  I  would  have  to  do  duty  like  the  rest.  I  told 
him  I  was  one  of  the  talking  backest  fellows  he  ever  saw, 
and  that  one  of  my  duties  as  a  newspaper  man  was  to  criti 
cise  the  conduct  of  the  war.  Then  he  said  I  might  report 
to  the  captain  of  my  company.  It  seemed  hard  to  go  into 
the  ranks,  after  having  had  a  soft  job  with  the  chaplain, 
and  again  as  colonel's  orderly,  but  I  thought  if  I  got  my 
back  up  and  showed  the  captain  that  I  was  no  ordinary 
soldier,  but  one  who  was  qualified  for  any  position,  that 
maybe  he  would  be  afraid  to  monkey  too  much  with  me.  I 
knew  the  captain  would  be  a  candidate  for  some  office  when 
the  war  was  over,  and  if  he  knew  I  was  on  to  him,  and  that 
I  should  very  likely  publish  a  paper  that  could  warm  him 
up  quite  lively,  he  would  see  to  it  that  I  wasn't  compelled 
to  do  very  hard  work.  So  I  rode  back  to  my  company  and 
told  the  captain  that  the  colonel  and  the  chaplain  had  got 
through  with  me,  and  I  had  come  back  to  stay,  and  would 
be  glad  to  do  any  light  work  he  might  have  for  me.  The 
captain  heaved  a  sigh,  as  though  he  was  not  particularly 
tickled  to  have  me  back,  and  told  me  to  fall  in,  in  the  rear 
of  the  company.  I  asked  if  I  couldn't  ride  at  the  head  of 
the  company.  He  said  no,  there  was  more  room  at  tba 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  101 

rear,  I  tried  to  tell  him  that  I  was  accustomed  to  riding 
at  the  head  of  the  regiment,  but  he  told  me  to  shut  up  my 
mouth  and  get  back  there,  and  I  got  back,  and  fell  in  at 
the  tail  end  of  the  company,  with  the  cook  and  an  officer's 
servant,  and  the  orderly  sergeant  came  back  and  wanted  to 
know  if  the  company  had  got  to  have  me  around  again. 
Here  was  promotion  with  a  vengeance.  From  the  proud 
pinnacle  from  which  I  had  soared,  as  chaplain's  clerk,  and 
colonel's  orderly,  I  had  dropped  with  one  fell  swoop  to  the 
rear  end  of  my  company,  and  nobody  wanted  me,  because  I 
had  kicked  against  stealing  hens  in  one  instance,  and  burn 
ing  buildings  and  tearing  up  railroads  in  the  other.  We 
rode  all  day,  and  at  night  laid  down  in  the  woods  and  slept, 
after  eating  the  last  of  our  rations.  I  slept  beside  a  log, 
and  before  going  to  sleep  and  after  waking,  I  swore  by  the 
great  horn  spoons  I  would  not  steal  anything  more  while  I 
was  in  the  army,  nor  do  any  damage  to  property.  In  the 
morning  the  soldiers  had  scarcely  a  mouthful  to  eat,  and  an 
order  was  read  to  each  company  that  for  three  or  four  days 
it  would  be  necessary  to  live  off  the  country,  foraging  for 
what  we  had  to  eat.  I  asked  the  captain  what  we  would 
do  for  something  to  eat  if  we  didn't  find  anything  in  the 
country  to  gobble  up.  He  said  we  would  starve.  That 
was  an  encouraging  prospect  for  a  man  who  had  taken  a 
solemn  oath  not  to  steal  any  more.  I  told  the  captain 
I  did  not  intend  to  steal  any  more,  as  I  did  not  think 
it  right.  Then  he  said  I  better  begin  to  eat  the  halter  off 
my  horse,  because  leather  would  be  the  only  thing  I  would 
have  to  stay  my  stomach.  The  first  day  I  did  not  eat  a 
mouthful,  except  half  of  a  hard-tack  that  I  had  a  quarrel 
with  my  horse  to  get.  In  throwing  the  sacldle  op  my 


102  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

horse,  one  solitary  hard-tack  that  was  in  the  saddle-bag, 
fell  out  upon  the  ground,  and  the  horse  picked  it  up.  I 
did  not  know  the  hard-tack  was  in  the  saddle,  and  when 
if  fell  upon  the  ground  I  was  as  astonished  as  I  would  have 
been  had  a  clap  of  thunder  come  from  the  clear  sky,  and 
when  the  horse  went  for  it,  my  stomach  rebelled  and  I 
grabbed  one  side  of  the  hard-tack  while  the  horse  held  the 
other  side  in  his  teeth.  Something  had  to  give,  and  as  the 
horse's  teeth  nor  my  hands  would  give,  the  hard- tack  had 
to,  and  I  saved  half  of  it,  and  placed  it  in  the  inside 
pocket  of  my  vest,  as  choice  as  though  it  were  a  thousand 
dollar  bill. 

I  have  listened  to  music,  in  my  time,  that  has  been 
pretty  bad,  and  which  has  sent  cold  chills  up  my  back,  and 
caused  me  pain,  but  I  never  heard  any  bad  music  that 
seemed  to  grate  on  my  nerves  as  did  the  noise  my  horse 
made  in  chewing  the  half  of  my  last  hard-tack,  and  the 
look  of  triumph  the  animal  gave  me  was  adding  insult 
to  injury.  Several  times  during  the  day  I  took  that  piece 
of  hard-tack  from  my  pocket  carefully,  wiped  it  on  my 
coat-sleeve,  and  took  a  small  bite,  and  the  horse  would 
look  around  at  me  wickedly,  as  though  he  would  like  to 
divide  it  with  me  again.  People  talk  about  guarding 
riches  carefully,  and  of  placing  diamonds  in  a  safe  place, 
but  no  riches  were  ever  guarded  as  securely  as  was  that 
piece  of  hard-tack,  and  riches  never  took  to  themselves 
wings  and  flew,  regretted  more  than  did  my  last  hard-tack. 
Each  bite  made  it  smaller,  and  finally,  the  last  bite  was 
taken,  with  a  sigh,  and  nothing  remained  for  me  to  eat 
but  the  halter.  Some  of  the  boys  went  out  foraging,  and 
moderately  success! ul,  while  others  did  not  get  a  thing 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION".  103 

to  eat.  The  country  was  pine  woods,  with  few  settlers, 
and  those  that  lived  there  were  so  poor  that  it  seemed 
murder  to  take  what  they  had.  One  of  the  men  of  our 
company  came  back  with  about  two  quarts  of  corn  meal, 
that  night,  and  I  traded  him  a  silver  watch  for  about  a 
pint  of  it.  I  mixed  it  up  in  some  water,  and  after  the 
most  of  the  men  had  fallen  asleep,  I  made  two  pancakes 
of  the  wet  meal,  and  put  them  in  the  ashes  of  the  camp- 
fire  to  bake,  but  fell  asleep  before  it  was  done,  and  when  I 
woke  up  and  reached  into  the  ashes  for  the  first  pancake,  it 
was  gone.  Some  Union  soldier,  whom  it  were  base  flattery 
to  call  a  thief,  had  watched  me,  and  stole  my  riches  as  I 
slept,  robbed  me  of  all  I  held  dear  in  life.  With  trembling 
hands  I  raked  the  ashes  for  my  other  pancake,  hopelessly, 
because  I  thought  that,  too,  was  gone,  but  to  my  surprise 
I  found  it.  The  villain  who  had  pursued  me  as  I  slept, 
had  failed  to  discover  the  second  pancake,  and  I  was  safe, 
and  my  life  was  saved.  I  have  seen  a  play  in  a  theater  in 
which  a  miser  hides  his  gold,  first  in  one  place,  then  in 
another,  looking  to  the  right  and  to  the  left  to  see  if  any 
body  was  watching  him.  I  was  the  same  kind  of  a  miser 
about  my  pancake.  If  I  hid  it  in  the  woods  I  might  fail 
to  find  the  place,  in  the  morning,  where  I  had  hid  it,  and 
besides,  some  soldier  that  was  peacefully  snoring  near  me, 
apparently,  might  have  one  eye  on  me,  and  commit  burg 
lary.  If  I  put  it  in  my  pocket,  and  went  to  sleep,  I 
might  have  my  pocket  picked,  so  I  concluded  to  remain 
awake  and  hold  it  in  my  hands.  There  appeared  to  be 
nothing  between  me  and  death  by  starvation,  except  that 
cornmeal  pancake,  and  I  sat  there  for  an  hour,  beside  the 
dying  embeds  of  the  camp-fire,  trying  tg  m^e  up 


104  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

who  stole  my  other  pancake,  and  what  punishment  should 
be  meted  out  to  him  if  I  ever  found  him  out.  1  would 
follow  him  to  my  dying  day.  I  suspected  the  captain,  the 
colonel,  the  chaplain,  and  six  hundred  soldiers,  any  one  of 
whom  was  none  too  good  to  steal  a  man's  last  pancake  if 
he  was  hungry.  To  this  day  I  have  never  found  out  who 
stole  my  pancake,  but  I  have  not  given  up  the  search,  and 
if  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Methuselah,  and  I  find  out  the  fel 
low  that  put  himself  outside  my  pancake  that  dark  night 
in  the  pine  woods,  I  will  gallop  all  over  that  old  soldier,  if 
he  is  older  than  I  am.  That  is  the  kind  of  avenger  that 
is  011  the  track  of  that  pancake-eater.  I  sat  there  and 
nodded  over  my  remaining  pancake,  clutched  in  my  hands, 
and  finally  started  to  my  feet  in  alarm.  Suppose  I  should 
fall  asleep,  and  be  robbed  ?  The  thought  was  maddening. 
I  have  read  of  Indians  who  would  eat  enough  at  one  siting 
to  last  them  several  days,  and  the  thought  occurred  tsjpfeie 
that  if  I  ate  the  pancake  iny  enemies  could  not  get  it  away 
from  me,  and  perhaps  it  would  digest  gradually,  a  little 
each  day,  and  brace  me  up  until  we  got  where  there  were 
rations  plenty.  So  I  sat  there  and  deliberately  eat  every 
mouthful  of  it,  and  looked  around  at  the  sleeping  compan 
ions  with  triumph,  laid  down  and  slept  as  peacefully  on 
the  ground  as  I  ever  slept  in  bed. 

There  may  be  truth  in  the  story  about  Indians  eating 
enough  to  last  them  a  week,  but  it  did  not  work  in  my 
case,  for  in  the  morning  I  was  hungry  as  a  she  wolf.  The 
pancake  had  gone  to  work  and  digested  itself  right  at 
once,  as  though  there  was  no  end  of  food,  and  my  stomach 
yearned  for  something.  I  walked  down  by  the  quarter 
master's  wagons,  about  daylight,  and  there  was  a  four 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  105 

mule  team,  each  with  a  nose  bag  on,  with  corn  in  it.  Th« 
mules  were  eating  corn,  unconscious  of  a  robber  being 
near  At  home,  where  I  had  lived  on  good  fresh  meat, 
bread,  pie,  everything  that  was  good,  nobody  could  have 
made  me  believe  that  I  would  steal  corn  from  a  government 
mule,  but  when  I  heard  the  mules  eating  that  corn  a 
demon  possessed  me,  and  I  meditated  robbery.  I  did  not 
want  to  take  all  the  corn  I  wanted  from  one  mule,  so  I 
decided  to  take  toll  from  all  of  them.  I  went  up  to  the 
first  one,  and  reached  my  hand  down  into  the  nose  bag 
beside  the  mule's  mouth  and  rescued  a  handful  of  corn, 
then  went  to  another  to  do  the  same,  but  that  mule  kicked 
at  the  scheme.  I  went  to  two  others,  and  they  laid  their 
ears  back  and  began  to  kick  at  the  trace  chains,  so  I  went 
back  to  my  first  love,  the  patient  mule,  and  took  every  last 
kernel  of  corn  in  the  bag,  and  as  I  went  away  with  a 
pocket  full  of  corn  the  mule  looked  at  me  with  tears  in  its 
eyes,  but  I  couldn't  be  moved  by  no  mule  tears,  with  hun 
ger  gnawing  at  my  vitals,  so  I  hurried  away  like  a  guilty 
thing.  While  I  was  parching  the  corn  stolen  from  the 
mule,  in  a  half  of  a  tin  canteen,  over  the  fire,  the  chaplain 
came  along  and  wanted  to  sample  it.  He  was  pretty 
hungry,  but  I  wasn't  running  a  free  boarding  house  for 
chaplains  any  more,  and  I  told  him  he  must  go  forage  for 
himself.  He  said  he  would  give  his  birthright  for  a 
pocket  full  of  corn.  I  told  him  I  didn't  want  any  birth 
right,  unless  a  birthright  would  stay  a  man's  stomach,  but 
if  he  would  promise  to  always  love,  honor  and  obey  me,  I 
would  tell  him  where  he  could  get  some  corn.  He  swore 
by  the  great  bald  headed  Elijah  that  if  I  would  steer  him 
onto  some  corn  he  would  remember  J£9  the  longest  day  he 


106  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

lived,  and  pray  for  me.  I  never  was  very  much  mashed 
on  the  chaplain's  influence  at  the  throne,  but  I  didn't  want 
to  see  him  starve,  while  government  mules  were  living  on 
the  fat  of  the  land,  so  I  told  him  to  go  down  to  the  quar 
termaster's  corral  and  rob  the  mules  as  I  had  done.  He 
bit  like  a  bass,  and  started  for  the  mules.  Honestly,  I  had 
no  designs  on  the  chaplain,  but  he  traded  me  a  kicking 
mule  once,  and  got  a  good  ( horse  of  me,  because  I  thought 
he  wanted  to  do  me  a  favor.  As  he  was  familiar  with 
mules^  I  supposed  he  would  know  how  to  steal  a  little 
corn.  Pretty  soon  I  heard  a  great  commotion  down  there, 
and  presently  the  chaplain  came  out  with  a  mule  chasing 
him,  its  ears  laid  back,  and  blood  in  its  eyes.  The  chap 
lain  was  white  as  a  sheet,  and  yelling  for  help.  Before  I 
could  knock  the  mule  down  with  a  neckyoke,  the  animal 
had  grabbed  the  chaplain  by  the  coat  tail,  with  its  mouth, 
taking  some  of  his  pants,  also,  and  perhaps  a  little  skin, 
raised  him  up  into  the  air,  about  seven  feet,  let  go  of  him, 
and  tried  to  turn  around  and  kick  the  good  man  on 
the  fly  as  he  came  down.  We  drove  the  mule  away, 
rescued  the  chaplain,  tied  his  pants  -together  with  a  piece 
of  string,  cut  off  the  tail  of  his  coat  which  the  mule  had 
not  torn  off,  so  it  was  the  same  length  as  the  other  one,  and 
made  him  look  quite  presentable,  though  he  said  he  knew 
he  could  never  ride  a  horse  again.  It  seems  that  instead 
of  reaching  into  the  nose  bag,  and  taking  a  little  corn,  he 
had  unbuckled  the  nose  bag  and  taken  it  off.  I  told  him 
he  was  a  hog,  and  ought  <  o  have  known  better  than  take 
the  nose  bag  off,  thus  leaving  the  mule's  mouth  unmuz 
zled,  while  the  animal  was  irritated.  He  accused  me  of 
knowing  that  the  mule  was  vicious  uud  deliberately  send- 


PUT  DOWN  THE  KEBELLION.  101 

ing  him  there  to  be  killed,  so  rather  than  have  any  hard 
feelings  I  gave  him  a  handful  of  my  parched  corn. 

A  few  Sundays  afterwards  I  heard  him  preach  a  sermon 
on  the  sin  of  covetousness,  and  I  thought  how  beautifully 
he  could  have  illustrated  his  sermon  if  he  had  turned 
around  and  showed  his  soldier  audience  where  the  mule  eat 
his  coat  tail.  Soon  we  saddled  up  and  marched  another 
day  without  food.  Header,  were  you  ever  so  hungry  that 
you  could  see,  as  plain  as  though  it  was  before  you,  a  din 
ner-table  set  with  a  full  meal,  roast  beef,  mashed  potatoes, 
pie,  all  steaming  hot,  ready  to  sit  down  to?  If  you  have 
not  been  very  hungry  in  your  life,  you  can  not  believe  that 
one  can  be  in  a  condition  to  "  see  things."  The  man  with 
delirium  tremens  can  see  snakes,  while  the  hungry  man,  in 
his  delirium,  can  see  things  he  would  like  to  eat.  Many 
times  during  that  day's  ride  through  the  deserted  pine- 
woods,  with  my  eyes  wide  open,  I  could  see  no  trees,  no 
ground,  no  horses  and  men  around  me,  but  there  seemed  a 
film  over  the  eyes,  and  through  it  I  could  see  all  of  the 
good  things  I  ever  had  eaten.  One  moment  there  would 
be  a  steaming  roast  turkey,  on  a  platter,  ready  to  be  carved. 
Again  I  could  see  a  kettle  over  a  cook-stove,  with  a  pigeon 
pot-pie  cooking,  the  dumplings,  light  as  a  feather,  bobbing 
up  and  down  with  the  steam,  and  I  could  actually  smell 
the  odor  of  the  cooking  pot-pie.  It  seems  strange,  and 
unbelievable  to  those  who  have  never  experienced  extreme 
hunger  or  thirst,  that  the  imagination  can  picture  eatables 
and  streams  of  running  water,  so  plain  that  one  will 
almost  reach  for  the  eatables,  or  rush  for  the  imaginary 
stream,  to  plunge  in  and  quench  thirst,  but  I  have  experi 
enced  both  of  those  sensations  for  thirteen  dollars  a 


105  HOW  PKIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

month,  and  nary  a  pension  yet.  It  is  such  experiences 
that  bring  gray  hairs  to  the  temples  of  young  soldiers,  and 
cause  eyes  to  become  hollow  and  sunken  in  the  head.  To 
day,  your  Uncle  Samuel  has  not  got  silver  dollars  enough 
in  his  treasury  to  hire  me  to  suffer  one  day  of  such  hunger 
as  to  make  me  see  things  that  were  not  there,  but  twenty- 
two  years  ago  it  was  easy  to  have  fun  over  it,  and  to  laugh 
it  off  the  next  day.  When  we  stopped  that  day,  at  noon, 
to  rest,  the  company  commissary  sergeant  came  up  to  the 
company,  with  two  men  carrying  the  hind  quarter  of  an 
animal  that  had  been  slaughtered,  and  he  began  to  cut  it 
up  and  issue  it  out  to  the  men.  It  was  peculiar  looking 
meat,  but  it  was  meat,  and  every  fellow  took  his  ration, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  the  smell  of  broiled  fresh  meat 
could  be  "heard"  all  around.  When  I  took  my  meat  I 
asked  the  sergeant  what  it  was,  and  where  he  got  it.  I 
shall  always  remember  his  answer.  It  was  this  : 

"  Young  man,  when  you  are  starving,  and  the  means 
of  sustaining  life  are  given  you,  take  your  rations  and  go 
away,  and  don't  ask  any  fool  questions.  If  you  don't  want 
it,  leave  it." 

Leave  it?  Egad,  I  would  have  eaten  it  if  it  had  been 
a  Newfoundland  dog,  and  I  took  it,  and  cooked  it,  and  ate 
it.  I  do  not  know,  and  never  did,  what  it  was,  but  when 
the  quartermaster's  mule  teams  pulled  out  after  dinner, 
there  were  two  '•'  spike  teams;" — that  is,  two  wheel  mules 
and  a  single  leader,  instead  of  four-mule  teams.  After  I 
saw  the  teams  move  out,  each  mule  looking  mournful,  as 
though  each  one  thought  his  time  might  come  next,  I  didn't 
want  to  ask  any  questions  about  that  meat,  though  I  ku^w 
there  wasn't  a  "beef  critter"  within  fifty  miles  of  us,  I 


PtJT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  109 

have  had  my  children  ask  me,  many  times,  if  I  ever  eat 
any  mule  in  the  army,  and  I  have  always  said  that  I  did 
not  know.  And  I  don't.  But  I  am  a  great  hand  to  mis 
trust. 

It  was  on  this  hungry  day,  when  filled  with  meat  suet 
as  I  had  never  met  before  that  I  did  a  thing  I  shall  always 
regret.  The  captain  came  down  to  the  rear  of  the  com 
pany  and  said,  so  we  could  all  hear  it.  "I  want  two  men 
to  volunteer  for  a  perilous  mission.  I  want  two  as  brave 
men  as  ever  lived.  Who  will  volunteer  ?  Don't  all  speak 
at  once.  Take  plenty  of  time,  for  your  lives  may  pay  the 
penalty  !  "  I  had  been  feeling  for  some  days  as  though 
there  was  not  the  utmost  confidence  in  my  bravery,  among 
the  men,  and  I  had  been  studying  as  to  whether  I  would 
desert,  and  become  a  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  or 
do  some  desperate  deed  that  would  make  me  solid  with  the 
boys,  and  when  the  captain  called  for  volunteers,  I  swal 
lowed  a  large  lump  in  my  throat,  and  said,  "  Captain, 
here's  your  mule.  I  will  go  ! "  Whether  it  was  that  con 
founded  meat  I  had  eaten  .that  had  put  a  seeming  bravery 
into  me,  or  desperation  at  the  hunger  of  the  past  few  days, 
I  do  not  know,  but  I  volunteered  for  a  perilous  mission. 
A  little  Irishman  named  McCarty  spoke  up,  and  said, 
"  Captain,  I  will  go  anywhere  that  red  headed  recruit 
will  go." 

So  it  was  settled  that  McCarty  and  myself  should  go,  and 
with  some  misgivings  on  my  part  we  rode  up  to  the  front 
and  reported.  I  thought  what  a  fool  I  was  to  volunteer, 
when  I  was  liable  to  be  killed,  but  I  was  in  for  it,  and  there 
was  no  use  squealing  now.  We  came  to  a  cross  road,  and 
the  captain  whispered  to  us  that  we  should  camp  there,  and 


110  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

that  he  had  been  told  by  a  reliable  contraband  that  up  the 
cross  road  about  two  miles  was  a  house  at  which  there  was 
a  sheep,  and  he  wanted  us  to  go  and  take  it.  He  said 
there  might  be  rebels  anywhere,  and  we  were  liable  to  be 
ambushed  and  killed,  but  we  must  never  come  back  alive 
without  sheep  meat.  Well,  we  started  off.  McCarty  said 
I  better  ride  a  little  in  advance  so  if  we  were  ambushed,  I 
would  be  killed  first,  and  he  would  rush  back  and  inform 
the  captain.  I  tried  to  argue  with  McCarty  that  I  being 
a  recruit,  and  he  a  veteran,  it  would  look  better  for  him  to 
lead,  but  he  said  I  volunteered  first,  and  he  would  waive 
his  rights  of  precedence,  and  ride  behind  me.  So  we  rode 
along,  and  I  reflected  on  my  changed  condition.  A  few 
short  weeks  ago  I  was  a  respected  editor  of  a  country  news 
paper  in  Wisconsin,  looked  up  to,  to  a  certain  extent,  by 
my  neighbors,  and  now  I  had  become  a  sheep  thief.  At 
home  the  occupation  of  stealing  sheep  was  considered  pretty 
lew  down,  and  no  man  who  followed  the  business  was 
countenanced  by  the  best  society.  A  sheep  thief,  or  one 
who  was  suspected  of  having  a  fondness  for  mutton  not  be 
longing  to  him,  was  talked  about.  And  for  thirteen  dollars 
a  month,  and  an  insignificant  bounty,  I  had  become  a 
sheep  thief.  If  I  ever  run  another  newspaper,  after  the 
war,  how  did  I  know  but  a  vile  contemporary  across  the 
street  would  charge  me  with  being  a  sheep  thief,  and  prove 
it  by  McOarty.  May  be  this  was  a  conspiracy  on  the  part 
of  the  captain,  whom  I  suspected  of  a  desire  to  run  for 
office  when  we  got  home,  to  get  me  in  his  power,  so  that 
if  I  went  for  him  in  my  paper,  he  could  charge  me  with 
stealing  sheep.  It  worked  me  up  considerable,  but  we 
were  out  of  meat,  and  if  there  was  a  sheep  in  the  vicinity, 


PUT  DOWN"  THE  REBELLION,  111 

and  I  got  it,  there  was  one  thing  sure,  they  couldn't  get 
any  more  mule  down  me.  So  we  rode  up  to  the  plantation, 
Which  was  apparently  deserted.  There  was  a  lamb  about 
two-thirds  grown,  in  the  front  yard,  and  McCarty  and  my 
self  dismounted  and  proceeded  to  surround  the  young 
sheep.  As  we  walked  up  to  it,  the  lamb  came  up  to  me 
bleating,  licked  my  hand,  and  then  I  noticed  there  was  a 
little  sleigh-bell  tied  to  its  neck  with  a  blue  ribbon.  The 
lamb  looked  up  at  us  with  almost  human  'eyes,  and  I  was 
going  to  .suggest  that  we  let  it  alone,  when  McCarty 
grabbed  it  by  the  hind  legs  and  was  going  to  strap  it  to  his 
saddle,  when  it  set  up  a  bleating,  and  a  little  boy  come 
rushing  out  of  the  house,  a  bright  little  fellow  about  three 
years  old,  who  could  hardly  talk  plain.  I  wanted  to  hug 
him,  he  looked  so  much  like  a  little  black-eyed  baby  at 
home,  that  was  too  awfully  small  to  say  "good  bye,  papa" 
when  I  left.  The  little  fellow,  with  the  dignity  of  an 
emperor,  said,  "Here,  sir,  you  must  not  hurt  my  little  pet 
lamb.  Put  him  down,  sir,  or  I  will  call  the  servants  and 
have  you  put  off  the  premises."  McCarty  laughed,  and 
said  the  lamb  would  be  fine  "atin'  for  the  boy's,"  and  was 
pulling  the  little  thing  up,  when  the  tears  came  into  the 
boy's  eyes,  and  that  settled  it.  I  said,  "  Mac,  for  heaven's 
sake,  drop  that  lamb.  I  wouldn't  break  that  little  boy's 
heart  for  all  the  sheep-meat  on  earth.  I  will  eat  mule,  or 
dog,  but  I  draw  the  line  at  children's  household  pets.  Let 
the  lamb  go."  "  Begorra,  yer  right,"  said  McCarty,  as  he 
let  the  lamb  down.  "Luk  at  how  the  shep  runs  to  the 
little  bye.  Ah,  me  little  mon,  yer  pet  shall  not  be  taken 
away  from  yez,"  and  a  big  tear  ran  down  McCarty's  face. 
The  little  boy  said  there  was  a  great  big  sheep  in  the 


112  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  We  PECK 

back  yard  we  could  have,  if  we  were  hungry,  and  we  went 
around  the  house  to  see.  There  was  an  old  black  ram  that 
looked  as  though  he  could  whip  a  regiment  of  soldiers,  but 
we  decided  that  he  was'  our  meat.  McCarty  suggested 
that  I  throw  a  lariet  rope  around  his  horns,  and  lead  him, 
while  he  would  go  behind  and  drive  the  animal.  That 
looked  feasible,  and  taking  a  horse-hair  picket  rope  off  my 
saddle,  with  a  slip  noose  in  the  end,  I  tossed  it  over  the 
horns  of  the  ram,  tied  the  rope  to  the  saddle,  and  started 
The  ram  went  along  all  right  till  we  got  out  to  the  road, 
when  he  held  back  a  little.  Mac  jabbed  the  ram  in  the  rear 
with  his  saber,  and  he  came  along  all  right,  only  a  little 
too  sudden.  That  was  one  of  the  mistakes  of  the  war, 
Mac's  pricking  that  ram,  and  it  has  been  the  source  of 
much  study  on  my  part,  for  twenty-two  years,  as  to 
whether  the  Irishman  did  it  on  purpose,  knowing  the  ram 
would  charge  on  my  horse,  and  butt  my  steed  in  the  hind 
legs.  If  that  was  the  plan  of  the  Irishman,  it  worked 
well,  for  the  first  thing  I  knew  my  horse  jumped  about 
eighteen  feet,  and  started  down  the  road  towards  camp,  on 
a  run,  dragging  the  ram,  which  was  bellowing  for  all  that 
was  out.  I  tried  to  hold  the  horse  in  a  little,  but  every 
time  he  slackened  up  the  ram  would  gather  himself  and 
run  his  head  full  tilt  against  the  horse,  and  away  he  would 
go  again.  Sometimes  the  ram  was  flying  through  the  air, 
at  the  end  of  the  rope,  then  it  would  be  dragged  in  the 
sand,  and  again  it  would  strike  on  its  feet,  and  all  the  time 
the  ram  was  blatting,  and  the  confounded  Irishman  was 
yelling  and  laughing.  We  went  into  the  camp  that  way, 
and  the  whole  regiment,  hearing  the  noise,  turned  out  to 
see  us  come  in.  As  my  horse  stopped,  and  the  ram  was 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  113 

caught  by  a  colored  man,  who  tied  its  legs,  I  realized  the 
ridiculousness  of  the  scene,  and  would  have  gone  off  some 
where  alone  and  hated  myself,  or  killed  the  Irishman,  but 
just  then  I  saw  the  captain,  and  I  said,  "  Captain,  I  have 
to  report  that  the  perilous  expedition  was  a  success. 
There's  your  sheep/'  and  I  rode  away,  resolved  that  that 
was  the  last  time  I  should  ever  volunteer  for  perilous  duty. 
The  Irishman  was  telling  a  crowd  of  boys  the  particulars, 
and  they  were  having  a  great  laugh,  when  I  said  : 

"McCarty,  you  are  a  villain.  I  believe  you  set  that 
ram  on  to  me  on  purpose.  Henceforth  we  are  strangers/* 

"Be  gob,"  said  the  Irishman,  as  he  held  his  sides  with 
laughter,  "  yez  towld  me  to  drive  the  shape,  and  didn't  I 
obey?" 


114  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PEUK 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BACON  AND  HARD-TACK  — IN  DANGER  OF  AGUE  — IN  SEARCH  OF 
WHISKY  AND  QUININE  —  I  AM  APPOINTED  CORPORAL  —  I  MAKE 
A  SPEECH  —  1  AM  THE  LEADER  OF  TEN  PICKED  MEN  —  I  AM 
WILLING  TO  RESIGN. 

The  next  day  we  arrived  at  a  post  where  rations  were 
plenty,  and  where  it  was  announced  we  should  remain  for 
a  week  or  two,  so  we  drew  tents  and  made  ourselves  as 
comfortable  as  possible.  It  did  seem  good  to  again  be 
where  we  did  not  have  to  depend  on  our  own  resources,  of 
stealing,  for  what  we  wanted  to  eat.  To  be  able  to  draw 
from  the  commissary  regular  rations  of  meat,  tea,  coffee, 
sugar,  baker's  bread,  and  beans,  was  joy  indeed,  after  what 
we  had  gone  through,  and  we  almost  made  hogs  of  our 
selves.  There  was  one  thing  —  those  few  days  of  starvation 
taught  us  a  lesson,  and  that  was,  when  ordered  on  a  trip 
with  two  days'  rations,  to  take  at  least  enough  for  six 
days,  especially  of  coffee  and  salt  pork  or  bacon.  With 
coffee  and  a  piece  of  old  smoked  bacon,  a  man  can  exist  a 
long  time.  I  remember  after  that  trip,  wherever  I  went, 
there  was  a  chunk  of  bacon  in  one  of  my  saddle-bags  that 
nobody  knew  anything  about,  and  many  a  time,  on  long 
marches,  when  hunger  would  have  been  experienced 
almost  as  severe  as  the  time  written  about  last  week,  I 
would  take  out  my  chunk  of  bacon,  cut  off  a  piece  and 
spread  it  on  a  hard-tack,  and  eat  a  meal  that  was  more 
strengthening  than  any  meal  Delmonico  ever  spread.  It 
was  at  this  post  that  the  boys  in  the  regiment  played  a 


PITT  DOWN  THE   REBELLIOH.  115 

trick  that  caused  much  fun  throughout  all  the  army. 
There  were  a  few  men  'in  each  company  who  had  the  chills 
and  fever,  or  ague,  and  the  surgeon  gave  them  each  morn 
ing,  a  dose  of  whisky  and  quinine.  It  was  interesting  to  see 
a  dozen  soldiers  go  to  surgeon's  call,  take  their  "bitters," 
and  return  to  their  quarters.  The  boys  would  go  to  the 
surgeon's  tent  sort  of  languid,  and  drag  along,  and  after 
swallowing  a  good  swig  of  whisky  and  quinine  they  would 
walk  back  to  their  quarters  swinging  their  arms  like  Pat 
Rooney  on  the  stage,  and  act  as  though  they  could  whip 
their  weight  in  wild  cats.  I  got  acquainted  with  the  hos 
pital  steward,  and  he  said  if  the  boys  were  not  careful  they 
would  all  be  down  with  the  ague,  and  that  an  ounce  of 
prevention  was  worth  more  than  a  pound  of  cure.  I 
thought  I  would  take  advantage  of  his  advice,  so  I  fell  in 
with  the  sick  fellows  the  next  morning,  and  when  the  doc 
tor  asked,  "What's  the  matter?"  I  said  "chills,"  and  he 
said,  "Take  a  swallow  out  of  the  red  bottle."  I  took  a 
swallow,  and  it  was  bitter,  but  it  had  whisky  in  it,  more 
than  quinine,  and  the  idea  of  beating  the  government  out 
of  a  drink  of  whisky  was  pleasure  enough  to  overcome  the 
bitter  taste.  I  took  a  big  swallow,  and  before  I  got  back 
to  my  quarters  I  had  had  a  fight  with  a  mule-driver,  and 
when  the  quartermaster  interfered  I  had  insulted  him 
by  telling  him  I  knew  him  when  he  carried  a  hod,  before 
the  war,  and  I  shouted,  "Mort,  more  mort!"  until  he  was 
going  to  lather  me  with  a  mule  whip,  but  he  couldn't 
catch  me.  As  I  run  by  the  surgeon's  tent,  somebody  re 
marked  that  I  had  experienced  a  remarkably  sudden  cure 
for  chills.  The  whisky  was  not  real  good,  but  as  I  had 
heard  the  hospital  steward  say  they  had  just  put  in  a 


116  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  TV.  PECK 

requisition  for  two  barrels  of  it,  to  be  prepared  for  an 
epidemic  of  chills,  I  thought  the  boys  ought  to  know  it, 
so  that  day  I  went  around  to  the  different  companies  and 
told  the  boys  how  to  play  it  for  a  drink.  There  are  very 
few  soldiers,  in  the  best  regiment,  that  will  not  take  2 
Irink  of  whisky  when  far  away  from  home,  discouraged, 
and  worn  out  by  marching,  and  our  fellows  looked  favor 
ably  upon  the  proposition  to  all  turn  out  to  surgeon's  call 
the  next  morning.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  on  the 
face  of  the  good  old  surgeon,  as  the  boys  formed  in  line 
in  front  of  his  tent  the  next  morning.  The  last  time  I 
saw  him,  he  was  in  his  coffin,  about  five  years  ago,  at  the 
soldier's  home,  and  a  few  of  the  survivors  of  the  regiment 
that  lived  here  had  gone  out  to  the  home  to  take  a  last 
look  at  him,  and  act  as  mourners  at  the  funeral.  He 
looked  much  older  than  when  he  used  to  ask  us  fellows  the 
conumdrum,  "What's  the  matter?"  but  there  was  that 
same  look  on  his  white,  cold  face  that  there  was  the  morn 
ing  that  nearly  the  whole  rogiment  reported  for  "bitters." 
There  must  have  been  four  hundred  men  in  line,  and  it 
happened  that  I  was  the  first  to  be  called.  When  he  asked 
me  about  my  condition,  and  I  told  him  of  the  chills,  he 
studied  a  minute,  then  looked  at  me,  and  said,  <f  You  are 
bilious.  David,  give  him  a  dose  of  castor  oil/'  I  know  I 
turned  pale,  for  it  was  a  great  come  down  from  quinine 
and  whisky  to  castor  oil,  for  a  healthy  man,  and  I  kicked. 
I  told  him  I  had  the  shakes  awfully,  and  all  I  wanted  was 
a  quinine  powder.  I  knew  they  had  put  all  their  quinine 
into  a  barrel  of  whisky,  so  I  was  safe  in  asking  for  dry 
quinine.  The  good  old  gentleman  finally  relented  on  the 
castor  o*l,  and  told  David  to  give  me  a  swallow  of  the 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  117 

quinine  bitters,  but  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  as  he 
noticed  what  a  big  swallow  I  took,  and  then  he  said, 
"You  will  be  well  tomorrow;  you  needn't  come  again."  I 
dropped  out  of  the  ranks,  with  my  skin  full  of  quinine 
and  whisky,  and  watched  the  other  fellows. 

There  were  men  in  the  line  who  had  never  been  sick  a 
day  since  they  enlisted,  big  fellows  that  would  fight  all 
day,  and  stand  picket  all  night,  and  who  never  knew  what 
it  was  to  have  an  ache.  And  it  was  amusing  to  see  them 
appear  to  shake,  and  to  act  as  though  they  had  chills. 
Some  of  them  could  not  keep  from  laughing,  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  doctor  had  his  doubts  about  there  being  so 
many  cases  of  chills,  but  he  dosed  out  the  quinine  and 
whisky  as  long  as  there  was  a  man  who  shook.  As  each 
man  took  his  dose,  he  would  show  two  expressions  on  his 
face.  One  was  an  expression  of  hilarity  at  putting  himself 
outside  of  a  good  swig  of  whisky,  and  the  other  was  an  ex 
pression  of  contempt  for  the  bitter  quinine,  and  an  evident 
wish  that  the  drug  might  be  left  out.  When  all  had  been 
served,  they  lingered  around  the  surgeon's  quarters,  talk 
ing  with  each  other  and  laughing,  others  formed  on  for  a 
stag  quadrille,  and  danced  while  a  nigger  fiddled.  Some 
seemed  to  feel  as  though  they  wanted  some  one  to  knock  a 
chip  off  their  shoulders,  old  grudges  were  talked  over,  and 
several  fights  were  prevented  by  the  interference  of  friends 
who  were  jolly  and  happy,  and  who  did  not  believe  in 
fighting  for  fun,  when  there  was  so  much  fighting  to  be 
done  in  the  way  of  business.  The  old  doctor  walked  up 
and  down  in  front  of  his  tent  in  a  deep  study.  He  was 
evidently  thinking  over  the  epidemic  of  ague  that  had 
broken  out  in  a  healthy  regiment,  and  speculating  as  to  its 


118  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

cause .  Suddenly  an  idea  seemed  to  strike  him,  and  he 
walked  up  to  a  crowd  of  his  patients,  who  were  watching  a 
couple  of  athletes,  who  had  just  taken  their  quinine,  and 
who  had  put  on  boxing  gloves  and  were  pasting  each  other 
in  the  nose.  "One  moment,"  said  the  old  doctor.  The 
boys  stopped  boxing,  and  every  last  "sick"  man  listened 
respectfully  to  what  the  old  doctor  said;  "Boys,"  said  he, 
"you  have  got  it  on  me  this  time.  I  don't  believe  a  con 
founded  one  of  you  have  got  ague  at  all.  You  ( shook  me ' 
for  the  whisky.  After  this,  quinine  will  be  dealt  out  raw, 
without  any  whisky,  and  now  you  can  shake  all  you  please/' 
Some  one  proposed  three  cheers  for  the  boys  that  had  made 
Uncle  Sam  stand  treat,  and  the  cheers  were  given,  and  the 
boys  separated  to  talk  over  the  event.  The  next  morning 
only  the  usual  number  of  sick  were  in  attendance  at  sur 
geon's  call.  The  healthy  fellows  didn't  want  to  take  quinine 
raw. 

About  this  time  an  incident  occurred  that  was  fraught 
with  great  importance  to  the  country  and  to  me,  though 
the  historians  of  the  war  have  been  silent  about  it  in  their 
histories,  whether  through  jealousy  or  something  else  I  do 
not  know,  and  modesty  has  prevented  me  from  making 
any  inquiries  as  to  the  cause.  The  incident  alluded  to  was 
my  appointment  as  corporal  of  my  company.  I  say  the 
incident  was  "fraught"  with  importance.  I  do  not  know 
the  meaning  of  the  word  "fraught,"  but  it  is  frequently 
used  in  history  in  that  connection,  and  I  throw  it  in,  be 
lieving  that  it  is  a  pretty  good  word.  The  appointment 
came  to  me  like  a  stroke  of  paralysis.  I  was  not  conscious 
that  my  career  as  a  soldier  had  been  such  as  to  merit  pro 
motion.  I  could  not  recall  any  particularly  brilliant  mill- 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  119 

tary  achievement  that  would  warrant  my  government 
selecting  me  from  the  ranks  and  conferring  honors  upon  me, 
unless  it  was  my  lasooing  that  ram  and  dragging  him  into 
camp,  when  we  were  out  of  meat.  But  it  was  not  my  place 
to  inquire  into  the  cause  that  had  led  to  my  sudden  pro 
motion  over  the  rank  and  file.  I  thought  if  I  made  too 
many  inquiries  it  would  be  discovered  that  I  was  not  such 
an  allfired  great  soldier  after  all.  If  the  government  had 
somehow  got  the  impression  that  I  was  well  calculated  to 
lead  hosts  to  victory,  and  it  was  an  erroneous  impression, 
it  was  the  governments'  place  to  find  it  out  without  any 
help  on  my  part.  I  would  accept  the  position  with  a  cer 
tain  dignity,  as  though  I  knew  that  it  was  inevitable  that 
I  must  sooner  or  later  come  to  the  front.  So  when  the 
captain  informed  me  that  he  should  appoint  me  Corporal, 
I  told  him  that  I  thanked  him,  and  through  him,  the 
Nation,  and  would  try  and  perform  the  duties  of  the  ex 
acting  and  important  position  to  the  best  of  my  ability, 
and  hoped  that  I  might  not  do  anything  that  would  bring 
discredit  upon  our  distracted  country.  He  said  that  would 
be  all  right,  that  he  had  no  doubt  the  country  would  pull 
through.  That  evening  at  dress  parade  the  appointment 
was  read,  and  I  felt  elated.  I  thought  it  singular  that  the 
regiment  did  not  break  out  into  cheers,  and  make  the 
welkin  ring,  though  they  may  not  have  had  any  welkin  to 
ring.  However,  I  thought  it  was  my  duty  to  make  a  little 
speech, acknowledging  the  honor  conferred  upon  me,  as  I  had 
read  that  generals  and  colonels  did  when  promoted.  I  took 
off  my  hat  and  said,  "  Fellow  soldiers."  That  was  the  end 
of  my  speech,  for  the  captain  turned  around  and  said  to 
orderly  sergeant,  "  Stop  that  red-headed  cusses'  mouth 


120  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

some  way,"  and  the  orderly  told  me  to  dry  up.  Everybody 
was  laughing,  I  supposed  at  the  captain.  Anyway,  I  felt 
hurt,  and  when  we  got  back  to  camp  the  boys  of  all  the 
companies  surrounded  me  to  offer  congratulations,  and  I 
was  called  on  for  a  speech.  Not  being  in  the  ranks,  no 
body  could  be  prevent  me  from  speaking,  so  I  got  up  on  a 
barrel,  and  said; 

FELLOW  SOLDIERS:— As  I  was  about  to  remark,  when 
interrupted  by  the  captain,  on  dress  parade,  this  office  has 
some  to  me  entirely  unsought.  It  has  not  been  my  wish 
to  wear  the  gilded  trappings  of  office  and  command  men, 
but  rather  to  fight  in  the  ranks,  a  private  soldier.  I  enlisted 
as  a  private,  and  my  ambition  has  been  to  remain  in  the 
ranks  to  the  end  of  the  war.  But  circumstances  over 
which  I  have  no  control  has  taken  me  and  placed  me  on 
the  high  pinnacle  of  Corporal,  and  I  must  bow  to  the 
decree  of  fate.  Of  course,  in  my  new  position  there  must 
necessarily  be  a  certain  gulf  between  us.  I  have  noticed 
that  there  has  been  a  gulf  between  me  and  the  officers, 
and  I  have  thought  it  wrong.  I  have  thought  that  pri 
vates  and  officers  should  mingle  together  freely,  and  share 
each  others'  secrets,  privations  and  rations.  But  since 
being  promoted  I  can  readily  see  that  such  things  cannot 
be.  The  private  has  his  position  and  the  officer  has  his, 
and  each  must  be  separate.  It  is  not  my  intention  to 
make  any  radical  changes  in  the  conduct  of  military 
affairs  at  present,  allowing  things  to  go  along  about  as  they 
have,  but  as  soon  as  I  have  a  chance  to  look  about  me,  cer 
tain  changes  will  be  made.  All  I  ask  is  that  you,  my 
fellow  soldiers,  shall  stand  by  me,  follow  where  I  shall 
lead  and " 


PUT  DOWN-  THE  REBELLION.  121 

At  thi&  point  in  my  address  the  head  of  the  barrel  on 
which  I  stood  fell  in  with  a  dull  thud,  and  I  found  myself 
up  to  the  neck  in  corned-beef  brine.  The  boys  set  up  a 
shout,  some  fellow  kicked  over  the  barrel,  and  they  began 
to  roll  it  around  the  camp  with  me  in  it.  This  was  a 
pretty  position  for  a  man  just  promoted  to  the  proud 
position  of  Corporal.  As  they  rolled  me  about  and  yelled 
like  Indians,  I  could  see  that  an  official  position  in  that 
regiment  was  to  be  no  sinecure.  All  official  positions  have 
more  or  less  care  and  responsibility,  but  this  one  seemed 
to  me  to  have  too  much.  Finally  they  spilled  me  out  of 
the  barrel,  and  I  was  a  sight  to  behold.  My  first  idea  was 
to  order  the  whole  two  hundred  fellows  under  arrest,  and 
have  them  court-martialed  for  conduct  unbecoming  soldiers; 
but  on  second  thought  I  concluded  that  would  seem  an 
Arbitrary  use  of  power,  so  I  concluded  to  laugh  it  off.  One 
fellow  said  they  begged  pardon  for  any  seeming  disrespect 
to  an  official;  but  it  had  always  been  customary  in  the 
regiment  to  initiate  a  corporal  who  was  new  and  too  fresh 
with  salt  brine.  I  said  that  was  all  right,  and  I  invited 
them  all  up  to  the  chaplain's  tent  to  join  me  in  a  glass  of 
wine.  The  chaplain  was  away,  and  I  knew  he  had  received 
&  keg  of  wine  from  the  sanitary  commission  that  day,  so 
we  went  up  to  his  tent  and  drank  it,  and  everything  passed 
^ff  pleasantly  until  the  chaplain  happened  in.  The  boys 
dispersed  as  soon  as  he  came,  and  left  me  to  fight  it  out 
#iih  the  good  man.  lie  was  the  maddest  truly  good  man 
V  have  ever  seen.  I  tried  to  explain  about  my  promotion, 
and  that  it  was  customary  to  set  'em  up  for  the  boys,  and 
that  there  was  no  saloon  near,  and  that  he  had  always 
fcold  me  to  help  myself  to  anything  I  wanted;  but  he 


122  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

wouldn't  be  calm  at  all.  I  tried  to  quote  from  Paul's 
epistle  about  taking  a  little  wine  for  the  stomach-ache;  but 
he  just  raved  around  and  called  me  names,  until  I  had  to 
tell  him  that  if  he  kept  on  I  would,  in  my  official  capacity 
as  corporal,  place  him  under  arrest.  That  seemed  to  calm 
him  a  little,  for  he  laughed,  and  finally  he  said  I  smelled  of 
stale  corned-beef,  and  he  kicked  me  out  of  his  tent,  and  I 
retired  to  my  quarters  to  study  over  the  mutability  of 
human  affairs,  and  the  unpleasant  features  of  holding 
official  position. 

That  night  I  dreamed  that  General  Grant  and  myself 
were  running  the  army  in  splendid  shape,  and  that  we 
were  in  receipt  of  constant  congratulations  from  a  grateful 
country,  for  victories.  He  and  I  seemed  to  be  great  chums. 
I  dreamed  of  engagements  with  the  enemy,  in  which  I  led 
men  against  fearful  odds,  and  always  came  out  victorious. 
I  woke  up  before  daylight  and  was  wondering  what  dan 
gerous  duty  I  would  be  detailed  to  lead  men  upon,  when 
the  orderly  poked  his  head  in  my  tent  and  told  me  I  was 
detailed  to  take  ten  picked  men,  at  daylight,  for  hard  ser 
vice,  and  to  report  at  once.  I  felt  that  my  time  had  come 
to  achieve  renown,  and  I  dressed  myself  with  unusual  care, 
putting  on  the  blouse  with  two  rows  of  buttons,  which  I 
had  brought  from  home.  I  borrowed  a  pair  of  Corporal's 
chevrons  and  sewed  them  to  the  sleeves  of  my  blouse,  and 
was  ready  to  die,  if  need  be.  I  placed  a  Testament  I  had 
brought  from  home,  inside  my  blouse,  in  a  breast  pocket, 
as  I  had  read  of  many  cases  where  a  Testament  had  been 
struck  with  a  bullet  and  saved  a  soldier's  life.  I  placed  all 
my  keepsakes  in  a  package,  and  told  my  tent  mate  that  I 
was  going  out  with  ten  picked  men,  and  it  was  possible  I 


PUT   DOWK  THE   REBELLION".  126 

might  never  show  up  again,  and  if  I  fell  he  was  to  send 
the  articles  to  my  family.  I  wondered  that  I  did  not  feel 
afraid  to  die.  I  was  no  professor  of  religion,  though  I  had 
always  tried  to  do  the  square  thing  all  around,  but  with  no 
consolation  of  religion  at  all,  I  felt  a  sweet  peace  that  was 
indescribable.  If  it  was  my  fate  to  fall  in  defence  of  my 
country,  at  the  head  of  ten  picked  men,  so  be  it.  Some 
body  must  die,  and  why  not  me.  I  was  no  better  than 
thousands  of  others,  and  while  life  was  sweet  to  me,  and  I 
had  anticipated  much  pleasure  in  life,  after  the  war,  in 
shooting  dacks  and  holding  office,  I  was  willing  to  give  up 
all  hope  of  pleasure  in  the  future,  and  die  like  a  thorough 
bred.  I  was  glad  that  I  had  been  promoted,  and  wondered 
if  they  would  put  "  Corporal "  on  my  tombstone.  I  won 
dered,  if  I  fell  that  day  at  the  head  of  my  n  en,  if  the 
papers  at  the  North,  and  particularly  in  Wisconsin,  would 
say  "  The  deceased  had  just  been  promoted,  for  gallant 
conduct,  to  the  position  of  Corporal,  and  it  will  be  hard  to 
fill  his  place."  With  these  thoughts  I  sadly  reported  to 
the  orderly.  The  ten  picked  men  were  in  line.  They  were 
all  six-footers,  four  of  them  Irishmen,  two  Yankees,  two 
Germans,  a  Welshman  and  a  Scotchman.  The  orderly 
gave  me  a  paper,  sealed  in  an  envelope.  I  turned  to  my 
men,  and  said,  "Boys,  whatever  happens  today,  I  don't 
want  to  see  any  man  show  the  white  feather.  The  world 
will  read  the  accounts  of  this  day's  work  with  feelings  of 
awe,  and  the  country  will  care  for  those  we  leave  behind.'* 
We  started  off,  and  it  occurred  to  me  to  read  my  instruc 
tions.  I  opened  the  envelope  with  the  air  of  a  general 
who  was  accustomed  to  receive  important  messages.  I 
read  it,  and  almost  fainted.  It  read:  "Report  to  the 


124  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

quartermaster,  at  the  steamboat  landing,  to  unload  quarter- 
master's  stores  from  steamer  Gazelle."  Ye  gods !  And 
this  was  the  hard  service  that  I  was  to  lead  ten  picked  men 
into.  They  had  picked  out  ten  stevedores,  to  carry  sacks 
of  corn,  and  hard-tack  boxes,  and  barrels  of  pork,  and  that 
was  the  action  I  was  to  engage  in  as  my  first  duty  as  cor 
poral.  I  almost  cried.  We  rode  down  to  the  landing, 
where  a  dozen  teams  were  waiting  to  be  loaded.  It  was  all 
I  could  do  to  break  the  news  to  my  picked  men  that  they 
were  expected  to  lug  sacks  of  corn  instead  of  fight,  and 
when  I  did  they  kicked  at  once.  One  of  the  Irishmen  said 
he  would  be  teetotally  d — d  if  he  enlisted  to  carry  corn  foi 
mules,  and  he  would  lay  in  the  guard-house  till  the  war 
was  over  before  he  would  lift  a  sack.  There  was  a  strike 
on  my  hands  to  start  on.  I  was  sorry  that  I  had  permitted 
myself  to  be  promoted  to  Corporal.  Trouble  from  the 
outset.  One  of  the  Yankees  suggested  that  we  hold  an  in 
dignation  meeting,  so  we  rode  up  in  front  of  a  cotton  ware 
house  and  dismounted.  The  Scotchman  was  appointed 
chairman,  and  for  half  an  hour  the  ten  picked  men  dis 
cussed  the  indignity  that  was  attempted  to  be  heaped  upon 
them,  by  compelling  them  to  do  the  work  of  niggers. 

They  argued  that  a  cavalry  soldier's  duty  was  exclu 
sively  to  ride  on  horseback,  and  that  there  was  no  power 
on  earth  to  compel  them  to  carry  sacks  of  corn.  One  of 
the  Dutchmen  said  he  could  never  look  a  soldier  in  the  face 
again  after  doing  such  menial  duty,  and  he  would  not  sub 
mit  to  it.  The  Scotch  chairman  said  if  he  had  read  the 
articles  of  war  right  there  was  no  clause  that  said  that  the 
cavalry  man  should  leave  his  horse  and  carry  corn.  I  was 
called  upon  for  my  opinion,  and  said  that  I  was  a  little 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  125 

green  as  to  the  duties  of  a  soldier,  but  supposed  we  had  to 
do  anything  we  were  ordered  to  do,  but  it  seemed  a  little 
tough.  I  told  them  I  didn't  want  any  mutiny,  and  it  would 
be  a  plain  case  of  mutiny  if  they  refused  to  work.  One  of 
the  Irishmen  asked  if  I  would  help  carry  sacks  of  corn, 
and  I  told  him  that  as  commander  of  the  expedition  it 
would  be  plainly  improper  for  me  to  descend  to  a  common 
day  laborer.  I  held  it  to  be  the  duty  of  a  corporal  to  stand 
around  and  see  the  men  work.  They  all  said  that  was 
too  thin,  and  I  would  have  to  peel  off  my  coat  and  work  if 
they  did.  I  told  them  I  couldn't  lif  fc  a  sack  of  corn  to  save 
me,  but  they  said  if  that  was  the  case  I  ought  not  to  have 
come.  The  quartermaster  was  looking  around  for  the 
detail  that  was  to  unload  the  boat,  and  he  asked  me  if  I 
had  charge  of  the  men  detailed  to  unload.  I  told  him  that  I 
did  have  charge  of  them  when  we  left  camp,  but  that  they 
had  charge  of  me  now,  and  said  they  wouldn't  lift  a  pound. 
He  thought  a  minute,  and  said,  <s  I  don't  like  to  see  you 
boys  carrying  corn  sacks,  and  rolling  pork  barrels.  Why 
don't  you  chip  in  and  hire  some  niggers."  The  idea 
seemed  inspired.  There  were  plenty  of  niggers  around 
that  would  work  for  a  little  money.  One  of  the  Irishmen 
moved  that  the  Corporal  hire  ten  niggers  to  unload  the 
quartermasters  stores,  and  the  motion  was  carried  unani 
mously.  I  would  have  voted  against  it,  but  the  Scotchman, 
who  was  chairman,  ruled  that  I  had  no  right  to  vote.  So 
I  went  and  found  ten  niggers  that  agreed  to  work  for  fifty 
cents  each,  and  they  were  set  to  work,  the  quartermaster 
promising  not  to  tell  in  camp  about  my  hiring  the  work 
done.  One  of  my  Dutchmen  moved  that,  inasmuch  as  we 
had  nothing  to  do  all  day,  that  we  take  in  the  town,  and 
10 


186  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

play  billiards,  and  whoop  it  up  until  the  boat  was  unloaded. 
That  seemed  a  reasonable  proposition,  and  the  motion  car 
ried,  after  an  amendment  had  been  added  to  the  effect  that 
the  Corporal  stay  on  the  boat  and  watch  the  niggers,  and 
see  that  they  didn't  shisk.  So  my  first  command,  my  ten 
picked  men,  rode  off  up  town,  and  I  set  on  a  wagon  and 
watched  my  hired  men.  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon  before  the  stuff  was  all  loaded,  and  after  paying  the 
niggers  five  dollars  out  of  my  own  pocket,  some  of  my 
bounty  money,  I  went  up  to  town  to  round  up  my  picked 
men  to  take  them  to  camp.  I  found  the  Scotchman  pretty 
full  of  Scotch  whisky.  He  had  found  a  countryman  who 
kept  a  tailor  shop,  who  had  a  bag  pipe,  and  they  were  hav 
ing  a  high  old  time  playing  on  the  instrument,  and  singing 
Scotch  songs.  I  got  him  on  his  horse,  and  we  looked  for 
the  rest.  The  two  Germans  were  in  a  saloon  playing  pee- 
nuckel,  and  singing  German  songs,  and  their  skins  were 
pretty  full  of  beer  and  cheese.  They  were  got  into  the 
ranks,  and  we  found  the  Irishmen  playing  forty-five  in  a 
saloon  kept  by  a  countryman  of  theirs,  and  they  had  evi 
dently  had  a  shindig,  as  one  of  them  had  a  black  eye  and  a 
scratch  on  his  nose,  and  they  were  full  of  fighting  whisky. 
The  Yankees  had  swelled  up  on  some  kind  of  benzine  and 
had  hired  a  hack  and  taken  two  women  out  riding,  and 
when  we  rounded  them  up  each  one  had  his  feet  out  of  the 
window  of  the  hack,  and  they  were  enjoying  themselves 
immensely.  The  Welchman  was  the  only  one  that  waa 
sober,  but  the  boys  said  there  was  not  enough  liquoi  in  the 
South  to  get  him  drunk.  When  I  got  them  all  mounted 
they  looked  as  though  they  had  been  to  a  banquet .  We 
started  for  cam  -but  I  did  not  want  to  take  them  in  until 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  12? 

after  dark,  so  we  rode  around  the  suburbs  of  the  town  until 
night  drew  her  sable  mantle  over  the  scene.  They  insisted 
on  singing  until  within  half  a  mile  of  camp,  and  it  would 
no  doubt  have  been  good  music,  only  the  Scotchman  in 
sisted  on  singing  "  The  March  of  the  Cameron  Men/' while 
the  Irishmen  sung  "Lots  of  fun  at  Finnegan's  Wake/' and 
the  German's  sung  "  Wacht  am  Rhine."  The  Yankees 
sung  the  "Star  Spangled  Banner/'  and  the  Welchman 
sung  something  in  the  Welch  language  which  was  worse 
than  all.  All  the  songs  being  sung  together,  of  course  1 
couldn't  enjoy  either  of  them  as  well  as  a  Corporal  ought 
to  enjoy  the  music  of  his  command.  Arriving  near  camp, 
the  music  was  hushed,  and  we  rode  in,  and  up  to  the  cap 
tain's  tent,  where  I  reported  that  the  corn  was  unloaded, 
all  right.  He  said  that  was  all  right.  Everything  would 
have  passed  off  splendidly,  only  one  of  the  Irishmen  pro 
posed  "three  cheers  for  the  dandy  Corporal  of  the  regi 
ment/'  and  those  inebriated,  "picked  men,"  gave  three 
cheers  that  raised  the  roof  of  the  colonel's  tent  near  by, 
because  I  had  hired  niggers  to  do  the  work,  and  let  the 
men  have  a  holiday.  I  dismissed  them  as  quick  as  I  could, 
but  the  colonel  sent  for  me,  and  I  had  to  tell  him  the 
whole  story.  He  said  I  would  demoralize  the  whole  regi 
ment  in  a  week  more,  and  I  better  let  up  or  he  would  have 
to  discipline  me.  I  offered  to  resign  my  commission  as 
Corporal,  but  he  said  I  better  hold  on  till  we  could  have  & 
fight,  and  may  be  1  would  get  killed. 


128  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 


CHAPTER  X. 

YEARNINGS  FOR  MILITARY  FAME— WHAT  I  WANT  is  A  CHANCE— 
I  FEEL  I  COULD  CRUSH  THE  REBELLION— MY  CHANCE  AR 
RIVES—I  AM  CRUSHED— THE  REBELLION  REMAINS  PRETTY 
WELL. 

As  I  could  get  no  one  to  accept  my  resignation  as 
corporal,  which  I  tendered  after  my  first  service  in  that 
capacity,  unloading  a  steamboat,  I  decided  to  post  myself 
as  to  the  duties  of  the  position,  so  I  borrowed  a  copy  of 
"  Hardee's  Tactics,"  and  studied  a  good  deal.  Every  place 
in  the  book  that  mentioned  the  word  "corporal,"  had  a 
particular  and  thrilling  interest  for  me,  and  I  soon  got  so 
it  would  have  been  easy  for  me  to  have  done  almost  any 
thing  that  a  corporal  would  have  to  do.  But  I  was  not 
contented  to  study  the  duty  of  a  corporal.  I  read  about 
the  " school  of  the  company,"  and  the  "school  of  the  reg 
iment,"  and  battalion  drills,  and  everything,  until  I  could 
handle  a  regiment,  or  a  brigade,  for  that  matter,  as  well  as 
any  officer  in  the  army,  in  my  mind.  This  led  me  to  go 
farther,  and  I  borrowed  a  copy  of  a  large  blue  book  the 
colonel  had,  the  name  of  which  I  do  not  remember  now, 
but  it  was  all  military,  and  told  how  to  conduct  a  battle 
successfully.  I  studied  that  book  until  I  got  the  thing 
down  so  fine  that  I  could  have  fought  the  battle  of  Gettys 
burg  successfully,  and  I  longed  for  a  chance  to  show  what 
I  knew  about  military  science  and  strategy.  It  seemed 
wonderful  to  me  that  one  small  red-head  could  contain 
so  much  knowledge  about  military  affairs,  and  I  felt  a  pilj 


PUT  BOWS'  THE   REBELLION-. 

for  some  officers  I  knew  who  never  had  studied  at  all,  and 
did  not  know  anything  except  what  they  had  picked  up. 
I  fought  battles  in  my  mind,  day  and  night.  Some  nights 
I  would  lay  awake  till  after  midnight,  planning  campaigns, 
laying  out  battle-fields,  and  marching  men  against  the 
enemy,  who  fought  stubbornly,  but  I  always  came  ou£ 
victorious,  and  then  I  would  go  to  sleep  and  dream  that 
the  President  and  secretary  of  war  had  got  on  to  me,  as  it 
were,  and  had  offered  me  high  positions,  and  I  would  wake 
up  in  the  morning  the  same  red-headed  corporal,  and  cook 
my  breakfast.  Sometimes  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  inform 
the  government,  in  some  round  about  way,  what  a  bonanza 
the  country  had  in  me,  if  my  talent  could  only  be  utilized 
by  placing  me  where  I  would  have  a  chance  to  distinguish 
myself,  and  bring  victory  to  our  arms.  I  reflected  that 
Grant,  and  Sherman,  and  Sheridan,  and  all  of  the  great 
generals,  were  once  corporals,  and  by  study  they  had  risen. 
There  was  not  one  of  them  that  could  dream  out  a  battle 
and  a  victory  any  better  that  I  could.  All  I  wanted  was  a 
chance.  Just  give  me  men  enough,  and  turn  me  loose  in 
the  Southern  Confederacy,  with  that  head  of  mine,  and 
the  result  would  be  all  an  anxious  nation  could  desire. 

My  first  chance  came  sooner  than  I  expected.  The 
next  day  a  part  of  the  regiment  went  out  on  a  scout,  to  be 
gone  a  couple  of  days,  and  my  company  was  along.  I  was 
unusually  absorbed  in  thought,  and  wondered  if  I  would 
be  given  a  chance  to  do  anything.  It  seemed  reasonable 
that  if  any  corporal  was  sent  out  with  a  squad  of  men,  to 
fight,  it  would  be  an  old  corporal,  while  if  there  was  any 
duty  that  was  menial,  the  new  corporals  would  get  it.  The 
second  day  out  we  stopped  at  noon  to  let  our  horses  rest, 


130  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

when  little  scouting  parties  that  had  been  sent  out  on  dif 
ferent  roads  during  the  forenoon,  began  to  come  in.  Many  of 
them  had  picked  up  straggling  rebels,  and  brought  them  to 
camp,  and  they  were  carefully  guarded,  and  the  major,  who 
was  in  command  of  our  party,  was  asking  them  questions, 
and  pumping  them  to  find  out  all  he  could.  I  went  over 
and  looked  at  them,  and  they  were  quite  a  nice  looking  lot 
of  fellows,  some  being  officers,  with  plenty  of  gold  lace  on 
their  gray  suits.  They  were  home  from  the  Confederate 
army  on  a  leave  of  absence,  probably  recruiting.  After 
talking  with  a  rebel  officer  for  a  time  the  major  turned  to 
the  adjutant  and  said,  "send  me  a  corporal  and  ten  men." 
The  adjutant  started  off,  and  I  followed  him.  I  used  to 
know  the  adjutant  when  he  taught  a  district  school,  before 
the  war,  and  I  asked  him  as  a  special  favor  to  let  me  be  the 
corporal.  He  said  the  detail  would  be  from  my  company, 
and  if  I  could  fix  it  with  the  orderly  sergeant  of  my  com 
pany  it  was  all  right.  I  rushed  to  my  company  and  found 
the  orderly,  and  got  him  to  promise  if  there  was  a  detail 
from  the  company  that  day,  I  could  go.  Before  the  words 
were  out  of  his  mouth  the  detail  came,  and  in  five  minutes 
I  reported  to  the  major  with  ten  men.  The  major  simply 
told  me  that  a  certain  rebel  captain,  from  Lee's  army,  was 
reported  to  be  at  home,  and  his  plantation  was  about  four 
miles  east,  and  he  described  it  to  me.  He  told  me  to 
ride  out  there,  surround  the  house,  capture  the  captain, 
and  bring  him  into  camp. 

No  general  ever  received  his  orders  in  regard  to  fighting 
a  battle,  with  a  feeling  of  greater  pride  and  responsibility 
than  I  did  my  orders  to  capture  that  rebel.  We  started 
out,  and  then  for  the  first  time  I  noticed  that  there  was 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  131 

another  corporal  in  the  squad  with  me,  and  at  once  it  oc 
curred  to  me  that  he  might  claim  a  part  of  the  glory  of 
capturing  the  rebel.  I  had  heard  of  the  jealousy  existing 
between  generals,  and  how  the  partisans  of  different  gen 
erals  filled  the  newspapers,  after  a  battle,  with  accounts  of 
the  part  taken  by  their  favorites,  and  that  the  accounts  got 
so  mixed  up  that  the  reader  couldn't  tell  to  whom  the 
credit  of  success  was  due,  and  I  decided  to  take  prompt 
measure  with  this  supernumerary  corporal,  who  had  evi 
dently  got  in  by  mistake,  so  I  told  him  he  might  go  back 
to  the  regiment.  He  said  he  guessed  not.  He  had  been 
detailed  to  go  on  the  scout,  and  he  was  going,  if  he  knew 
himself,  and  he  thought  he  did.  He  said  when  it  come 
right  down  to  rank,  he  was  an  older  corporal  than  I  was, 
and  could  take  command  of  the  squad  if  he  wanted  to.  I 
told  him  he  was  mistaken  as  to  his  position.  That  if  the 
major  had  wanted  him  to  take  charge  of  the  expedition, 
he  would  have  given  him  the  instructions,  but  as  the  major 
had  given  me  the  instructions,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  no 
body  but  myself  knew  where  we  were  going  or  what  w« 
were  going  for,  arid  that  I  was  responsible,  and  the  first  in 
timation  I  had  from  him  that  he  wanted  to  mutiny,  or  re 
lieve  me  from  my  command,  I  would  have  him  shot  at 
once.  I  told  him  he  could  go  along,  but  he  must  keep  his 
mouth  shut,  and  obey  orders.  He  said  he  would  obey, 
if  he  felt  like  it.  We  moved  on,  and  I  would  have  given  a 
month's  pay  if  that  corporal  had  not  been  there.  In  a 
ahort  time  we  were  in  sight  of  the  house,  and  at  a  cross 
road  I  told  the  corporal  to  take  one  man  and  stop  there, 
until  further  orders,  and  if  any  rebel  came  along,  to  cap 
ture  him.  He  was  willing  enough  to  stay  there,  because 


132  HOW   PEIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

there  was  a  patch  of  musk  melons  just  over  the  fence.  I 
moved  my  remaining  eight  men  to  a  high  piece  of  ground 
near  the  house,  and  halted,  to  look  over  the  field  of  battle. 
Pulling  a  spy  glass  from  my  pocket,  which  I  had  borrowed 
from  the  sutler,  I  surveyed,  as  near  like  a  general  as  pos 
sible,  the  situation.  On  one  side  of  the  house  was  a  ravine, 
which  I  decided  must  be  held  at  all  hazards,  and  after 
studying  my  copy  of  tactics  a  moment,  I  sent  an  Irishman 
over  there  to  hold  the  key  to  the  situation,  and  told  him  he 
might  consider  himself  the  Iron  Brigade.  The  lay  of  the 
ground  reminded  me  much  of  pictures  I  had  seen  of  the 
battle  of  Bull  Eun,  and  the  road  on  which  I  had  left  the 
corporal  and  one  man,  was  the  road  to  Washington,  on 
which  we  would  retreat,  if  overcome  by  the  enemy.  To 
the  right  of  the  ravine,  which  was  held  by  the  Iron 
Brigade,  I  noticed  a  hen-house  with  a  gate  leading  back  to 
the  nigger  quarters,  and  I  called  a  soldier  and  told  him  to 
make  a  detour  behind  a  piece  of  woods,  and  at  a  signal 
from  me,  the  waving  of  my  right  arm,  to  charge  directly 
to  the  gate  of  the  hen-house,  and  hold  it  against  any  force 
that  might  attempt  to  carry  it,  and  to  let  no  guilty  man 
escape.  Fifteen  years  afterwards  Gen.  Grant  used  those 
self-same  words,  "Let  no  guilty  man  escape,"  and  they 
became  historic,  but  I  will  take  my  oath  I  was  the  first 
commander  to  use  the  words,  when  I  sent  that  man  to  hold 
the  gate  of  the  hen-house.  That  man  I  denominated  the 
First  Division.  Farther  to  the  right  was  a  field  of  sweet 
potatoes,  in  which  was  a  colored  man  digging  the  potatoes. 
I  sent  a  Dutchman  to  hold  that  field,  with  the  right  rest 
ing  on  the  left  of  the  First  Division,  located  at  the  gate  of 
the  hen-house,  whose  right  was  supposed  to  rest  on  the  left 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  133 

of  the  Iron  Brigade,  the  Irishman  who  commanded  the 
ravine.  Then  I  turned  my  attention  to  the  left  of  the 
battle-field,  placed  one  man  at  the  milk-house,  with  his  left 
resting  on  the  right  of  the  Irishman,  and  a  man  at  the 
smoke-house.  This  left  three  men,  one  of  whom  I  ap 
pointed  an  aid  de  camp,  one  an  orderly  and  the  other  I 
held  as  a  reserve,  at  a  cotton  gin.  When  I  had  got  my 
army  into  position,  I  sat  under  a  tree  and  reflected  a  little, 
and  concluded  that  the  Iron  Brigade  was  in  rather  too  ex 
posed  a  position,  so  I  sent  my  aid  de  camp  to  order  the 
Iron  Brigade  to  move  forward,  under  cover  of  the  ravine, 
and  take  a  position  behind  a  mule-shed.  The  aide  soon 
returned  and  reported  that  the  Iron  Brigade  had  taken  off 
his  shirt  and  kanoodled  a  negro  woman  to  wash  it  for  him, 
and  would  not  be  able  to  move  until  the  shirt  was  dry. 

This  altered  my  plans  a  little,  but  I  was  equal  to  the 
emergency,  and  ordered  my  reserve  to  make  a  detour  and 
take  the  mule-shed,  and  hold  it  until  relieved  by  the  Iron 
Brigade,  which  would  be  as  soon  as  his  shirt  was  dry,  and 
then  to  report  to  me^  on  the  field.  Then  I  took  my  aide 
and  orderly,  and  galloped  around  the  lines,  to  see  that  all 
was  right.  I  found  that  the  First  Division,  holding  the 
gate  of  the  hen-house,  was  well  in  hand,  though  he  had 
killed  five  chickens,  and  had  them  strapped  on  his  saddle, 
and  was  trying  to  cut  off  the  head  of  another  with  his 
sabre.  He  said  he  thought  I  said  to  let  no  guilty  hen 
escape.  I  found  the  Iron  Brigade  dismounted,  his  shirt 
hung  on  a  line  to  dry,  and  the  colored  woman  had 
been  pressed  into  the  Federal  service,  and  was  frying  a 
chicken  for  the  Brigade.  I  told  him  to  get  his  shirt  on  as 
soon  as  it  was  dry,  and  move  by  forced  marches,  to  relieve 


134  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

the  force  holding  the  mule-shed,  and  the  Iron  Brigade 
said  he  would  as  soon  as  he  had  his  dinner.  I  found  the 
Division  composed  of  the  Dutchman,  stubbornly  holding 
the  sweet-potato  field,  and  he  was  eating  some  boiled  ham 
and  corn-bread  he  had  sent  the  nigger  to  the  house  after, 
and  he  had  a  bushel  of  sweet-potatoes  in  a  sack  strapped 
to  his  saddle.  The  force  at  the  milk-house  had  a  fine 
position,  and  gave  me  a  pitcher  of  butter-milk,  which  I 
drank  with  great  gusto.  I  do  not  know  as  there  is  any 
thing  in  butter-milk  that  is  stimulating,  but  after  drink 
ing  it  my  head  seemed  clearer,  and  I  could  see  the  whole 
battle-field,  and  anticipate  each  movement  I  should  cause 
to  be  made.  I  was  so  pleased  with  the  butter-milk,  on  the 
eve  of  battle,  that  I  ordered  the  Second  Division  to  fill  my 
canteen  with  it,  which  he  did.  Then  I  rode  back  to  my 
headquarters,  where  I  started  from,  having  ridden  clear 
around  the  beleaguered  plantation.  Presently  the  reserve 
returned  to  me  and  reported  that  he  had  been  relieved  by 
the  Iron  Brigade  at  the  mule-shed,  whose  shirt  had  become 
dry,  and  who  had  given  the  reserve  a  leg  of  fried  chicken, 
and  a  corn  dodger.  I  took  the  leg  of  chicken  away  from 
my  reserve,  eat  it  with  great  relish,  and  prepared  for  the 
onslaught,  the  reserve  picking  some  persimmons  off  a  tree 
and  eating  them  for  lunch.  I  was  about  to.  order  the  dif 
ferent  divisions  and  brigades  of  my  army  to  advance  from 
their  different  positions,  and  close  in  on  the  enemy,  when 
a  colored  man  came  out  of  the  house  and  moved  toward 
me,  signalling  that  he  would  fain  converse  with  me.  I 
struck  a  dignified  attitude,  by  throwing  my  right  leg  over 
the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  like  a  hired  girl  riding  a  plow- 
horse  to  town  after  a  doctor,  and  waited.  When  he  came 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  135 

dp  to  me,  he  said,  "  Massa  wants  to  know  what  all  dis  dam 
foolishness  is  about.  He  says  if  you  all  don't  go  away 
from  here  he  will  shoot  de  liver  outen  you  all."  I  told  the 
negro  to  be  calm,  and  not  cause  me  to  resort  to  extreme 
measures,  and  I  asked  him  if  his  master  was  at  home.  He 
said  he  was,  and  he  was  a  bad  man  wid  a  gun.  He  had 
killed  plenty  of  men  before  the  war,  and  since  the  war  he 
had  killed  more  Yankees  than  enough  to  build  a  rail-fence 
around  the  plantation.  I  did  not  exactly  like  the  reports 
in  regard  to  the  enemy.  I  told  the  colored  man  to  take  a 
flag  of  truce  to  his  master,  and  tell  him  I  would  like  an  in 
terview.  The  colored  man  went  to  the  house,  and  I  sent 
for  the  Iron  Brigade  to  report  to  me  at  once,  in  light 
marching  order,  and  the  Irishman  came  riding  up  without 
any  shirt  on.  •  I  caused  the  Brigade  to  put  on  his  shirt, 
when  I  sent  him  to  the  house,  to  follow  the  flag  of  truce 
and  feel  of  the  enemy.  He  went  to  the  house,  and  was 
evidently  invited  in,  for  he  disappeared.  I  waited  half  an 
hour  for  him,  and  as  he  did  not  show  up,  I  called  th«  Sec 
ond  Division,  and  sent  the  Dutchman  to  the  hou^e.  The 
Second  Division  went  in,  and  did  not  come  out.  A  ordered 
the  whole  right  wing  of  my  army  to  deploy  to  my  support, 
and  the  fellow  at  the  hen-house  gate  came,  and  I  uent  him 
in  after  the  Irishman  and  the  Dutchman.  He  didn't  come 
back,  and  I  sent  an  orderly  after  the  force  stationed  at  the 
milk-house,  and  he  came,  and  I  sent  him,  with  the  same 
result.  It  was  evident  I  was  frittering  away  my  command, 
with  no  good  result,  so  I  looked  at  my  tactics,  and  decided 
to  hold  a  council  of  war.  My  aide,  orderly,  and  reserve, 
three  besides  myself,  composed  the  council  of  war.  The 
three  were  in  favor  of  ordering  up  the  other  corporal  and 


136  HOW  PEIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

man  from  the  cross-roads,  but  I  opposed  it.  I  did  not 
want  the  other  corporal  to  have  any  finger  in  the  pie.  So 
I  decided  that  the  four  of  us  would  go  in  a  body  to  the 
house  and  demand  the  surrender  of  the  rebel  captain.  We 
rode  down  the  lane  where  the  other  men  had  gone,  and  it 
was  a  question  whether  we  ever  came  back  alive.  I  thought 
they  had  a  trap  door  in  the  house,  which  probably  let  the 
soldiers  down  suddenly  into  a  dungeon.  Certainly  unless 
there  was  something  of  the  kind  my  men  would  have  come 
back.  As  we  dismounted  at  the  door;  and  walked  up  the 
steps,  the  door  opened  and  a  fine  looking  rebel  officer  ap 
peared,  smiling. 

"Come  in,  Captain,  with  your  men,  and  join  me  in  a 
glass  of  wine/'  said  the  rebel. 

I  had  never  been  called  "Captain"  before,  and  it 
touched  me  in  a  tender  spot.  The  rebel  evidently  thought 
I  looked  like  a  captain,  and  I  was  proud.  He  had  prob 
ably  watched  my  maneuvers,  and  the  way  I  handled  my 
men,  and  thought  I  was  no  common  soldier. 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  I  do,"  said  I,  and  we  walked 
into  a  splendid  old  room,  and  were  bidden  to  be  seated. 

*' Hello,  Corp,"  said  my  Iron  Brigade,  as  he  took  his 
legs  down  from  a  table,  and  poured  out  a  glass  of  whisky 
from  a  bottle  near  him,  "  This  is  the  divil's  own  place  for 
an  aisy  life." 

"  Gorporal,"  said  my  Dutch  fellow  soldier,  as  he  poured 
out  a  glass  of  schnapps,  "Led  me  indroduce  you  mit 
dot  repel.  He  is  a  tasy,  und  don'd  you  forgot  aboud  it. 
Mishder  repel,  dot  ish  der  gorporal  fun  my  gumpany." 

The  rebel  smiled  and  said  he  was  glad  to  see  me,  and 
hoped  I  was  well,  and  would  I  take  wine,  or  something 


PUT  DOWN  THE  KEBELLION.  137 

stronger.  I  took  a  small  glass  of  wine,  but  the  rest  of  the 
fellows  took  strong  drink,  and  my  Iron  Brigade  was  already 
full,  and  the  Dutchman  was  getting  full  rapidly.  Finally 
I  told  the  rebel  officer  that  I  did  not  like  to  accept  a  man's 
hospitality  when  I  had  such  an  unpleasant  duty  to  perform 
as  to  arrest  him,  but  circumstances  seemed  to  make  it  nec 
essary.  He  said  that  was  all  right.  In  times  of  war  we 
must  do  many  things  that  were  unpleasant.  We  took 
another  drink,  and  then  I  told  him  I  was  sorry  to  incon 
venience  him,  but  he  would  have  to  accompany  me  to 
camp.  He  said  certainly,  he  had  expected  to  be  captured 
ever  since  he  saw  that  the  house  was  surrounded,  and 
while  at  first  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  take  his  rifle  and 
kill  us  all  from  the  gallery  of  the  house,  he  had  thought 
better  of  it,  and  would  surrender  without  bloodshed.  What 
was  the  use  of  killing  any  more  men  ?  The  war  was 
nearly  over,  and  why  not  submit,  and  save  carnage.  I 
told  him  that  was  the  way  I  felt  about  it.  Then  he  said  if 
I  would  wait  until  he  retired  to  an  adjoining  room  and 
changed  his  linen,  he  would  be  ready.  I  said  of  course, 
certainly,  and  he  went  out  of  a  door.  I  waited  about  half 
an  hour,  until  it  seemed  to  me  the  rebel  had  had  time  to 
change  all  the  linen  in  the  state  of  Alabama.  The  Iron 
Brigade  had  gone  to  sleep  on  a  lounge,  and  the  German 
troop  was  full  as  a  goat,  and  some  of  the  others  were  be 
ginning  to  feel  the  hospitality. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for  intruding,"  said  I,  as  I  opened 
-the  door  and  walked  into  the  room  the  rebel  had  entered. 
t(  Great  Scott,  he  is  gone  I" 

My  army,  all  except  the  Iron  Brigade  and  the  Dutch 
man,  followed  me,  and  the  room  was  empty.  A  window 


138  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE   W.  PECK 

was  up,  through  which  he  had  escaped.  We  searched  the 
house,  but  there  was  no  rebel  captain.  On  going  to  the 
front  door  I  found  that  the  horse  belonging  to  the  iron 
brigade  was  gone,  and  that  the  saddle  girths  of  all  the 
other  horses  had  been'  unbuckled,  so  we  would  be  delayed 
in  following  him.  The  Irishman  was  awakened,  and  when 
he  found  his  horse  was  gone,  he  sobered  up  and  went  to 
the  pasture  and  borrowed  a  mule  to  ride. 

It  took  us  half  an  hour  to  fix  our  saddles,  so  we  could 
ride,  and  then  we  sadly  started  for  camp.  How  could  1 
face  the  major,  and  report  to  him  that  I  had  met  the  rebel 
captain,  talked  with  him,  drank  with  him,  enjoyed  his  hos 
pitality,  and  then  let  him  escape?  I  felt  that  my  military 
career  had  come  to  an  inglorious  ending.  We  rode  slow, 
because  the  Iron  Brigade  was  insecurely  mounted  on  a 
slippery  bare-backed  mule.  As  we  neared  the  corporal  and 
one  man,  that  I  had  left  to  guard  the  cross-roads,  I  noticed 
that  there  was  a  stranger  with  them,  and  on  riding  closer 
what  was  my  surprise  to  find  that  it  was  the  rebel  captain, 
under  arrest.  So  the  confounded  corporal,  whom  1  had 
left  there  so  he  would  be  out  of  the  way,  and  not  get  any 
of  the  glory  of  capturing  the  rebel,  had  captured  him,  and 
got  all  the  glory.  I  was  hurt,  but  putting  on  a  bold  mili 
tary  air,  like  a  general  who  has  been  whipped,  I  said: 

"  Ah,  corporal,  I  see  my  plan  has  worked  successfully. 
I  arranged  it  so  this  prisoner  would  run  right  into  the 
trap." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  corporal,  throwing  away  a  melon  rind 
that  he  had  been  chewing  the  meat  off  of,  "  I  saw  his  nibs 
coming  down  the  road,  and  I  thought  may  be  he  was  the 
one  you  wanted,  so  I  told  him  to  halt  or  I  would  fill  his 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  139 

lungs  full  of  lead  pills,  and  he  said  he  guessed  he  would 
halt.  He  said  it  was  a  nice  day,  and  he  was  only  trying 
one  of  the  Yankee  cavalry  horses,  to  see  how  he  liked  it." 
"  Here,  you  murdherin'  divil,  get  down  afl  that  harse," 
said  the  Iron  Brigade,  who  had  got  awake  enough  to  see 
that  the  rebel  was  on  his  horse.  ' '  Take  this  mule,  and 
lave  a  dacent  gintleman's  harse  alone." 

The  rebel  smiled,  dismounted,  gave  the  Irishman  his 
horse,  mounted  the  mule,  and  we  started  for  camp.  I  was 
never  so  elated  in  my  life  aa  1  was  when  I  rode  into  camp 
with  that  rebel  captain  beside  me  on  the  mule.  The  object 
of  the  expedition  had  been  accomplished,  a  little  different, 
it  is  true,  from  what  I  had  expected  and  planned,  but  who 
knew  that  it  was  not  a  part  of  my  plan  to  have  it  turn  out 
as  it  did?  I  reflected  much,  and  wondered  if  it  was  right 
for  me  to  report  the  capture  of  the  Confederate  and  say 
nothing  about  the  part  played  by  the  other  corporal.  That 
corporal  was  no  military  strategist,  like  me.  It  was  just  a 
streak  of  luck,  his  capturing  the  rebel.  He  was  leaning 
against  the  fence  where  I  left  him,  eating  melons,  and  the 
rebel  came  along,  and  the  corporal  quit  chewing  melon  long 
enough  to  obey  my  orders  and  arrest  the  fellow.  By  all 
rules  of  military  law  I  was  entitled  to  the  credit,  and  I 
would  take  it,  though  it  made  me  ashamed  to  do  so.  How 
ever,  generals  did  the  same  thing.  If  a  major-general 
was  in  command,  and  ordered  a  brigadier-general  to  do  a 
thing,  and  it  was  a  success,  the  major-general  got  the 
credit  in  the  newspapers.  So  I  rode  into  camp  and  turned 
my  prisoner  over  to  the  major  as  modestly  as  possible,  with 
a  few  words  of  praise  of  my  gallant  command. 
"  Hello,  Jim,"  said  the  major  to  the  rebel. 


140  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

"  Hello,  Maje,"  said  the  rebel. 

"  Better  take  off  them  togs  now,  and  join  your  com 
pany,"  said  the  major. 

"I  guess  so,"  said  the  rebel,  and  he  took  off  his  rebel 
uniform,  and  the  major  handed  him  a  blue  coat  and  pair 
of  pants,  and  he  put  them  on. 

I  was  petrified.  The  fact  was,  the  "  rebel "  was  a  ser 
geant  in  our  regiment,  who  had  been  detailed  as  a  scout, 
and  had  been  making  a  trip  into  the  rebel  lines  as  a 
spy.  I  had  made  an  ass  of  myself  in  the  whole  business, 
and  he  would  tell  all  the  boys  about  it.  I  went  back  to  my 
company  crushed. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  141 


CHAPTER  XL 

I  AM  DETAILED  TO  BUILD  A  BRIDGE  —  IT  WAS  A  GOOD  BRIDGE, 
BUT  OVER  THE  WRONG  STREAM  —  THE  GENERAL  APPEARS — 
I  AM  CRUSHED,  IN  FACT  PULVERIZED  !  —  I  AM  ATTACKED 
WITH  RHEUMATISM. 

After  the  episode,  related  last  week,  in  which  I  fool 
ishly  organized  a  regular  battle,  to  capture  a  supposed 
rebel,  who  turned  out  to  be  a  member  of  my  own  regi 
ment,  I  expected  to  be  the  laughing  stock  of  all  the  sol 
diers,  and  that  my  commission  as  corporal  would  be  taken 
away  from  me,  and  that  I  would  be  reduced  to  the  ranks, 
and  when,  the  next  morning,  the  colonel  sent  for  me  to 
come  to  his  tent,  it  was  a  stand-off  with  me  whether  I 
would  take  to  the  woods  and  desert,  in  disgrace,  and  never 
show  up  again,  or  go  to  the  colonel,  face  the  music,  and 
admit  that  I  had  made  an  ass  of  myself.  Finally  I  de 
cided  to  visit  the  colonel.  On  the  way  to  his  tent  I 
noticed  that  our  force  had  been  augmented  greatly.  The 
road  was  full  of  wagons,  the  fields  near  us  were  filled  with 
infantry  and  artillery,  and  there  were  fifty  wagons  or  more 
loaded  with  pontoons,  great  boats,  or  the  frame- work  of 
boats,  which  were  to  be  covered  with  canvass,  which  was 
water-proof,  and  the  boats  were  to  be  used  for  bridges 
across  streams.  The  colonel  had  not  told  me  anything 
about  the  expected  arrival  of  more  troops,  and  it  worried 
me  a  good  deal.  May  be  there  was  a  big  battle  coming  off, 
and  I  might  blunder  into  it  unconscious  of  danger,  and 
ge';  the  liver  blowed  out  of  me  by  a  cannon.  I  felt  that 
11 


142  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

the  colonel  had  not  treated  me  right  in  keeping  me  in 
ignorance  of  all  this  preparation.  I  went  to  the  colonel's 
tent  and  there  was  quite  a  crowd  of  officers,  some  with 
artillery  uniforms,  several  colonels,  and  one  general  with  a 
star  on  his  shoulder  straps,  and  a  crooked  sword  with  a 
silver  scabbard,  covered  with  gold  trimmings.  I  felt  quite 
small  with  those  big  officers,  but  I  tried  to  look  brave,  and 
as  though  I  was  accustomed  to  attending  councils  of  war. 
The  colonel  smiled  at  me  as  I  came  in  which  braced  me  up 
a  good  deal. 

"  General,  this  is  the  sergeant  I  spoke  to  you  about," 
said  the  colonel,  as  he  turned  from  a  map  they  had  been 
looking  at.  I  felt  pale  when  the  colonel  addressed  me  as 
sergeant,  and  was  going  to  call  his  attention  to  the  mis 
take,  when  the  general  said  : 

"  Sergeant,  the  colonel  tells  me  that  you  can  turn  your 
hand  to  almost  anything.  What  line  of  business  have  you 
worked  at  previous  to  your  enlistment  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  guess  there  is  nothing  that  is  usually  done  in 
a  country  village  that  I  have  not  done.  I  have  clerked  in 
a  grocery,  tended  bar,  drove  team  on  a  threshing  machine, 
worked  in  a  slaughter  house,  drove  omnibus,  worked  in  a 
saw-mill,  learned  the  printing  trade,  rode  saw-logs,  worked 
in  a  pinery,  been  brakeman  on  a  freight  train,  acted  as  as 
sistant  chambermaid  in  a  livery  stable,  clerked  in  a  hotel, 
worked  on  a  farm,  been  an  auctioneer,  edited  a  newspaper, 
took  up  the  collection  in  church,  canvassed  for  books,  been 
life-insurance  agent,  worked  at  bridge-building,  took  tin 
types,  sat  on  a  jury,  been  constable,  been  deck-hand  on  a 
steamboat,  chopped  cord-wood,  run  a  cider-mill,  and  drove 
a  stallion  in  a  four-minute  race  at  a  county  fair." 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLIOH.  143 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  general.  "  You  will  be  placed 
in  charge  of  a  pioneer  corps,  and  you  will  go  four  miles 
south,  on  the  road,  where  a  bridge  has  been  destroyed 
across  a  small  bayou,  build  a  new  bridge  strong  enough  to 
cross  artillery,  then  move  on  two  miles  to  &  river  you  will 
find,  and  look  out  a  good  place  to  throw  a  pontoon  bridge 
across.  The  first  bridge  you  will  build  under  an  artillery 
fire  from  the  rebels,  and  when  it  is  done  let  a  squad  of 
cavalry  cross,  then  the  pontoon  train,  and  a  regiment  of 
infantry.  Then  light  out  for  the  river  ahead  of  the  pon 
toon  train,  with  the  cavalry.  The  pioneer  corps  will  be 
ready  in  fifteen  minutes." 

The  colonel  told  me  to  hurry  up,  but  I  called  him 
out  of  his  tent  and  asked  him  if  I  was  really  a  ser 
geant,  or  if  it  was  a  €€  mirage."  He  said  if  I  made  a  suc- 
ces  of  that  bridge,  and  the  command  got  across,  and  I  was 
not  killed  I  would  be  appointed  sergeant.  He  said  the 
general  would  try  me  as  a  bridge-builder,  and  if  I  was  a 
success  he  would  try  me,  no  doubt,  in  other  capacities,  such 
as  driving  team  on  a  threshing  machine,  and  editing  a 
newspaper. 

Well,  I  went  off  after  my  horse,  feeling  pretty  proud. 
The  idea  of  being  picked  out  of  so  many  non-commissioned 
officers,  and  placed  in  charge  of  a  pioneer  corps,  and  sent 
ahead  of  the  army  to  rebuild  a  bridge  that  had  been  de 
stroyed,  with  a  prospect  of  being  promoted  or  killed,  was 
glory  enough  for  one  day,  and  I  rode  back  to  headquarters 
feeling  that  the  success  of  the  whole  expedition  rested  on 
me.  If  I  built  a  corduroy  bridge  that  would  pass  that 
whole  army  safely  over,  artillery  and  all,  would  anybody 
enquire  ^rho  built  the  bridge.  Of  course,  if  I  built  a  bridge 


144  HOW  PEIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

that  would  break  down,  and  drown  somebody,  everybody 
would  know  who  built  it.  The  twenty  men  were  mounted, 
and  ready,  and  the  general  told  me  to  go  to  the  quarter 
master  and  get  all  the  tools  I  wanted,  and  I  took  twenty 
axes,  ten  shovels,  two  log  chains,  and  was  riding  away, 
when  the  general  said  : 

"  When  you  get  there,  and  look  the  ground  over,  make 
up  your  mind  exactly  at  what  hour  and  minute  you  can 
have  the  bridge  completed,  and  send  a  courier  back  to  in 
form  me,  and  at  that  hour  the  head  of  the  column  will  be 
there,  and  the  bridge  must  be  ready  to  cross  on." 

I  said  that  would  be  all  right,  and  we  started  out.  In 
about  forty  minutes  we  had  arrived  at  the  bayou,  and  I 
called  a  private  soldier  who  used  to  do  logging  in  the 
woods,  and  we  looked  the  tning  over.  The  timber  neces 
sary  was  right  on  the  bank  of  the  stream. 

"  Jim,"  I  said  to  the  private,  "  I  have  got  to  build  a 
bridge  across  this  stream  strong  enough  to  cross  artillery. 
I  shall  report  to  the  general  that  he  can  send  along  his 
artillery  at  seventeen  minutes  after  eight  o'clock  this 
evening.  Am  I  right  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Jim,  as  he  looked  at  the  standing  timber, 
at  the  stream,  and  spit  some  black  tobacco  juice  down  on 
the  red  ground,  "  I  should  make  it  thirty-seven  minutes 
after  eight.  You  see,  a  shell  may  drop  in  here  and  kill  a 
mule,  or  something,  and  delay  us.  Make  it  thirty-seven, 
and  I  will  go  you." 

We  finally  compromised  by  splitting  the  difference,  and 
I  sent  a  courier  back  to  the  general,  with  my  compliments, 
and  with  the  information  that  at  precisely  eight  o'clock 
and  twenty-seven  minutes  he  could  start  across.  Then  we 


PUT   DOWN   THE   REJ3ELL10K.  145 

fell  to  work.  Large,  long  trees  were  cut  for  stringers,  and 
hewn  square,  posts  were  made  to  prop  up  the  stringers, 
though  the  stringers  would  have  held  any  weight.  Then 
small  trees  were  cut  and  flattened  on  two  sides,  for  the 
road-bed,  holes  bored  in  them  and  pegs  made  to  drive 
through  them  into  the  stringers.  A  lot  of  cavalry  soldiers 
never  worked  as  those  men  did.  Though  there  was  only 
twenty  of  them,  it  seemed  as  though  the  woods  were  full 
of  men.  Trees  were  falling,  and  axes  resounding,  and  men 
yelling  at  mules  that  were  hauling  logs,  and  the  scene  re 
minded  me  of  logging  in  the  Wisconsin  pineries,  only  these 
were  men  in  uniform  doing  the  work.  About  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  we  had  the  stringers  across,  when  there 
was  a  half  dozen  shots  heard  down  the  stream,  and  bullets 
began  "  zipping  "  all  around  the  bridge,  and  we  knew  the 
rebels  were  onto  the  scheme,  and  wanted  it  stopped.  I  got 
behind  a  tree  when  the  bullets  began  to  come,  to  think  it 
over.  My  first  impulse  was  to  leave  the  bridge  and  go 
back  and  tell  the  general  that  I  couldn't  build  no  bridge 
unless  everything  was  quiet.  That  I  had  never  built 
bridges  where  people  objected  to  it.  1  asked  the  private 
what  we  had  better  do.  He  said  his  idea  was  to  knock  off 
work  on  the  bridge  for  just  fifteen  minutes,  cross  the 
stream  on  the  stringers,  and  go  down  there  in  the  woods 
and  scare  the  life  out  of  those  rebels,  drive  them  away,  and 
make  them  think  the  whole  army  was  after  them,  then 
cross  back  and  finish  the  bridge.  That  seemed  feasible 
enough,  so  about  a  dozen  of  us  squirreled  across  the  string 
ers  with  our  carbines,  and  the  rest  went  down  the  stream 
on  our  side,  and  all  of  us  fired  a  dozen  rounds  from  our 
Spencer  repeaters,  right  into  the  woods  where  the  rebels 


146  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

seemed  to  be.  When  we  did  so,  the  rebels  must  have 
thought  there  was  a  million  of  us,  for  they  scattered  too 
quick,  and  we  had  a  quiet  life  for  two  hours.  We  had  got 
the  bridge  nearly  completed,  when  there  was  a  hissing 
sound  in  the  air,  a  streak  of  smoke,  and  a  powder  maga 
zine  seemed  to  explode  right  over  us.  I  suppose  I  turned 
pale,  for  I  had  never  heard  anything  like  it.  Says  I, 
"Jim,  excuse  me,  but  what  kind  of  a  thing  is  that?" 
Jim  kept  on  at  work,  remarking,  "  0,  nothing  only  they 
are  a  shellin'  on  us."  And  so  that  was  a  shell.  I  had 
read  of  shells  and  seen  pictures  of  them  in  Harper's 
Weekly,  but  I  never  supposed  I  would  hear  one.  Presently 
another  came,  and  I  wanted  to  pack  up  and  go  away.  I 
looked  at  my  pioneers,  and  they  did  not  pay  any  more  at 
tention  to  the  shells  than  they  would  to  the  braying  of 
mules.  I  asked  Jim  if  there  wasn't  more  or  less  danger 
attached  to  the  building  of  bridges,  in  the  South,  and  he, 
the  old  veteran,  said :  v 

"Corp,  don't  worry  as  long  as  they  hain't  got  our 
range.  Them  'ere  shell  are  going  half  a  mile  beyond  us, 
and  we  don't  need  to  worry.  Just  let  'em  think  they  are 
killing  us  off  by  the  dozen,  and  they  will  keep  on  sending 
shells  right  over  us.  If  we  had  a  battery  here  to  shell 
back,  they  would  get  our  range,  and  make  it  pretty  warm 
for  us.  But  now  it  is  all  guess  work  with  them,  and  we 
are  as  safe  as  we  would  be  in  Oshkosh.  Let's  keep  right 
on  with  the  bridge." 

I  never  can  explain  what  a  comfort  Jim's  remarks  were 
to  me.  After  listening  to  him,  I  could  work  right  along, 
driving  pegs  in  the  bridge,  and  pay  no  attention  to  the 
shells  that  were  going  over  us.  In  fact,  I  lit  my  pipe  and 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  147 

smoked,  and  began  to  figure  how  much  it  was  going  to 
cost  the  Confederacy  to  "celebrate"  that  way.  It  was 
costing  them  at  the  rate  of  fourteen  dollars  a  minute,  and 
I  actually  found  myself  laughing  at  the  good  joke  on  the 
rebels.  Pretty  soon  a  courier  rode  up,  from  the  general, 
asking  if  the  shelling  was  delaying  the  bridge.  I  sent 
word  back  that  it  was  not  delaying  us  in  the  least;  in  fact, 
it  was  hurrying  us  a  little,  if  anything,  and  he  could  send 
along  his  command  twenty-seven  minutes  sooner  than  I 
had  calculated,  as  the  bridge  would  be  ready  to  cross  on 
at  eight  o'clock  sharp.  At  a  quarter  to  eight,  just  as  the 
daylight  was  fading,  and  we  had  lighted  pine  torches  to 
see  to  eat  our  supper,  an  orderly  rode  up  and  said  the 
general  and  staff  had  been  looking  for  me  for  an  hour, 
and  were  down  at  the  forks  of  the  road.  I  told  the  orderly 
to  bring  the  general  and  staff  right  up  to  the  headquarters, 
and  we  would  entertain  them  to  the  best  of  our  ability, 
and  he  rode  off.  Then  we  sat  down  under  a  tree  and 
smoked  and  played  seven  up  by  the  light  of  pine  torches, 
and  waited.  I  was  never  so  proud  of  anything  in  my  life, 
as  I  was  of  that  bridge,  and  it  did  not  seem  to  me  as 
though  a  promotion  to  the  position  of  sergeant  was  going 
to  be  sufficient  recompense  for  that  great  feat  of  engineer 
ing.  It  was  as  smooth  as  though  sawed  plank  had  covered 
it,  and  logs  were  laid  on  each  side  to  keep  wagons  from 
running  off.  I  could  see,  in  my  mind,  hundreds  of 
wagons,  and  thousands  of  soldiers,  crossing  safely,  and  I 
would  be  a  hero.  My  breast  swelled  so  my  coat  was  too 
tight.  Presently  I  heard  some  one  swearing  down  the 
road,  the  clanking  of  sabres,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
general  rode  into  the  glare  of  the  torch-light.  I  had 


148  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE   W.  PECK 

struck  an  attitude  at  the  approach  of  the  bridge, 
thought  that  I  would  give  a  good  deal  if  an  artist  could 
take  a  picture  of  my  bridge,  with  me,  the  great  engineer, 
standing  upon  it,  and  the  head  of  the  column  just  ready 
to  cross.  I  was  just  getting  ready  to  make  a  little  speech 
to  the  general,  presenting  the  bridge  to  him,  as  trustee  of 
the  nation,  for  the  use  of  the  army,  when  I  got  a  sight  of 
his  face,  as  a  torch  flared  up  and  lit  the  surroundings.  It 
was  pale,  and  if  he  was  not  a  madman,  I  never  saw  one. 
He  fairly  frothed  at  the  mouth,  as  he  said,  addressing  a 
soldier  who  had  fallen  in  the  stream,  during  the  afternoon, 
and  who  was  putting  on  his  shirt,  which  he  had  dried  by  a 
fire: 

"Where  is  the  corporal,  the  star  idiot,  who  built  that 
bridge?" 

I  couldn't  have  been  more  surprised  if  he  had  killed 
me.  This  was  a  nice  way  to  inquire  for  a  gentleman  who 
had  done  as  much  for  the  country  as  I  had,  in  so  short  a 
time.  I  felt  hurt,  but,  summoning  to  my  aid  all  the  gall 
I  possessed,  I  stepped  forward,  and,  in  as  sarcastic  a,  man 
ner  as  I  could  assume,  I  said: 

"I  am  the  sergeant,  sir,  who  has  wrought  this  work, 
made  a  highway  in  twelve  hours,  across  a  torrent,  and 
made  is  possible  for  your  army  to  cross." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  suppose  my  army  wants  to  cross 
this  confounded  ditch  for?  What  business  has  the 
army  got  in  that  swamp  over  there  ?  You  have  gone 
off  the  main  road,  where  I  wanted  a  bridge  built,  and 
built  one  on  a  private  road  to  a  plantation,  where  nobody 
wants  to  cross.  This  bridge  is  of  no  more  use  to  me  than 
«,  bridge  across  the  Mississippi  river  at  its  source.  You, 


PUT   DOWN   THE    REBELLION.  14! 

sir,  have  just  simply  raised  hell,,  that's  what  you  have 
done." 

Talk  about  being  crushed!  I  was  pulverized.  I  felt 
like  jumping  into  the  stream  and  drowning  myself.  For  a 
moment  I  could  not  speak,  because  I  hadn't  anything  to 
say.  Then  I  thought  that  it  would  be  pretty  tough  to  go  off 
and  leave  that  bridge  without  the  general's  seeing  what  a 
good  job  it  was,,  so  I  said: 

"Well,  general,  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  give  me  more 
explicit  instructions,  but  I  wish  you  would  get  down  and 
examine  this  bridge.  It  is  a  daisy,  and  if  it  is  not  in  the 
right  place  we  can  move  it  anywhere  you  want  it." 

That  seemed  to  give  the  general  an  idea,  and  he  dis 
mounted  and  examined  it.  He  said  it  was  as  good  a  job 
as  he  ever  saw,  and  if  it  was  a  mile  down  the  road,  across 
another  bayou,  where  he  wanted  to  cross,  he  would  give  a 
fortune.  I  told  him  if  he  would  give  me  men  enough  and 
wagons  enough,  I  would  move  it  to  where  he  wanted  it, 
and  have  it  ready  by  daylight  the  next  morning.  He 
agreed,  and  that  was  the  hardest  nights  work  I  ever  did. 
Every  stick  of  timber  in  my  pet  bridge  had  to  be  taken  off 
separately,  and  moved  over  a  mile,  but  it  was  done,  and  at 
daylight  the  next  morning  I  had  the  pleasure  of  calling  the 
general  and  telling  him  that  the  bridge  was  ready.  I 
thought  he  was  a  little  mean  when  he  woke  up  and  rubbed 
his  eyes,  and  said' 

"Now,  you  are  sure  you  have  got  it  in  the  right  place 
this  time,  for  if  that  bridge  has  strayed  away  onto  any 
body's  plantation  this  time,  you  die." 

The  army  crossed  all  right,  and  I  had  the  proud  pleas 
ure  o^  standing  by  the  bridge  until  the  last  man  was  across, 


HOW   PRIVATE   GEOEGE   W.  PECK 

when  I  rode  up  to  my  regiment  and  reported  to  the  colonel, 
pretty  tired.*  He  was  superintending  the  laying  of  a 
pontoon  bridge  across  a  large  river,  a  few  miles  from  my 
bridge,  and  he  said: 

"  George,  the  general  was  pretty  hot  last  night,  but  he 
vas  to  blame  about  the  mistake  in  the  location,  and  he 
says  he  is  going  to  try  and  get  you  a  commission  as  lieu 
tenant." 

I  felt  faint,  but  I  said,  "  How  can  he  recommend  a  star 
idiot  for  a  commissioned  office?'' 

"  0,  that  is  all  right,"  said  the  colonel,  "  Some  of  the 
greatest  idiots  in  the  army  have  received  commissions." 
As  he  spoke  the  rebels  began  to  shell  the  place  where  the 
pontoon  bridge  was  being  built,  and  I  went  hunting  for  a 
place  to  borrow  an  umbrella  to  hold  over  me,  to  ward  off 

*  A  few  weeks  ago  I  met  a  member  of  my  old  regiment,  who  is  travel 
ing  through  the  South  as  agent  for  a  beer  bottling  establishment  in  the 
North.  He  was  with  me  when  we  built  the  corduroy  bridge  twenty-two 
years  ago.  As  we  were  talking  over  old  times  he  asked  me  if  I  remembered 
that  bridge  we  built  one  day  in  Alabama,  in  the  wrong  place,  and  moved  it 
during  the  night.  I  told  him  I  wished  I  had  as  many  dollars  as  I  remembered 
that  bridge.  "  Well,"  said  my  comrade,  "  on  my  last  trip  through  Alabama 
£  crossed  that  bridge,  and  paid  two  bits  for  the  privilege  of  crossing.  A 
man  has  established  a  toll-gate  at  the  bridge,  and  they  say  he  has  made  a 
fortune.  I  asked  him  how  much  his  bridge  cost  him,  and  he  said  it  didn't 
cost  him  a  cent,  as  the  Yankees  built  it  during  the  war.  He  said  they  cut 
the  timber  on  his  land,  and  when  he  got  out  of  the  Confederate  army  he  was 
busted,  and  he  claimed  the  bridge,  and  got  a  charter  to  keep  a  toll-gate."  My 
comrade  added  that  the  bridge  was  as  sound  as  it  was  when  it  was  built.  He 
said  he  asked  the  toll-gate  keeper  if  he  knew  the  bridge  was  first  built  a  mile 
away,  and  he  said  he  knew  the  timber  was  cut  up  there,  and  he  wondered 
what  the  confounded  Yankees  went  away  off  there  to  cut  the  timber  for, 
when  they  could  get  it  right  on  the  bank.  Then  my  comrade  told  the  toll- 
gate  keeper  that  he  helped  build  the  bridge,  the  rebel  thanked  him,  and 
wanted  to  pay  back  the  two  bits.  Some  day  I  am  going  down  to  Alabama 
and  cross  on  that  bridge  again,  the  bridge  that  almost  caused  me  to  commit 
suicide,  and  if  that  old  rebel  — for  he  must  be  an  old  rebel  now  —  charges  me 
two  bits  toll,  I  shall  very  likely  pull  off  my  coat  and  let  him  whip  me,  and 
then  as  likely  as  not  there  will  be  another  war. 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  151 

the  pieces  of  shell.  Then  a  battery  of  our  own  opened  on 
the  rebels,  so  near  me  that  every  time  a  gun  was  discharged 
I  could  feel  the  roof  of  my  head  raise  up  like  the  cover  to  a 
band  box.  It  was  the  wildest  time  I  ever  saw.  Cavalry 
was  swimming  the  river  to  charge  the  rebel  battery,  shells 
were  exploding  all  around,  and  it  seemed  to  me  as  though 
if  I  was  to  lay  a  pontoon  bridge  I  would  go  off  somewhere 
out  of  the  way,  where  it  would  be  quiet.  Finally  my  regi 
ment  was  ordered  to  swim  the  river,  and  we  rode  in.  The 
first  lunge  my  horse  made  he  went  under  water  about  a 
mile,  and  when  we  came  up  I  was  not  on  him,  but  catch 
ing  hold  of  his  tail  I  was  dragged  across  the  river  nearly 
drowned,  and  landed  on  the  bank  like  a  dog  that  has  been 
after  a  duck,  I  shook  myself,  we  mounted  and  without 
waiting  to  dry  out  our  clothes  we  went  into  the  fight,  before 
I  could  realize  it,  or  back  out.  Scared!  I  was  so  scared  it  is 
a  wonder  I  did  not  die.  That  was  more  excitement  than  a 
county  fair.  Bullets  whizzing,  shells  shrieking,  smoke 
stifling,  yelling  that  was  deafening.  It  seemed  as  though 
I  was  crazy.  I  must  have  been  or  I  could  never,  as  a  raw 
recruit,  with  no  experience,  have  ridden  right  toward 
those  guns  that  were  belching  forth  sulphur  and  pieces  of 
blacksmith  shop.  I  didn't  dare  look  anywhere  except 
right  ahead.  All  thought  of  being  hit  by  bullets  or  any 
thing  was  completely  out  ol  my  mind.  Occasionally  some 
thing  would  go  over  me  that  sounded  as  though  a  buzz 
saw  had  been  fired  from  a  saw  mill  explosion.  Pres 
ently  the  firing  on  the  rebel  side  ceased,  and  it  was 
seen  they  were  in  retreat.  I  was  never  so  glad  of 
anything  in  my  life.  We  stopped,  and  I  examined 
my  clothes,  and  they  were  perfectly  dry.  The  ex- 


152  HOW   PRIVATE   GriORGE   W.  PECK 

citement  and  warmth  of  the  body  had  acted  like  a  drying- 
room  in  a  laundry.  Then  I  laid  down  under  a  fence  and 
went  to  sleep,  and  dreamed  I  was  in  hades,  building  a 
corduroy  bridge  across  the  Styx,  and  that  the  devil  repre- 
manded  me  for  building  it  in  the  wrong  place.  When  I 
awoke  I  was  so  stiff  with  rheumatism  that  I  had  to  be 
helped  up  from  under  the  fence,  and  they  put  me  in  an  am 
bulance  with  a  soldier  who  had  his  jaw  shot  off.  He  was 
not  good  company,  because  I  had  to  do  all  the  talking. 
And  in  that  way  we  moved  towards  the  enemy. 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  153 


CHAPTER  XII. 

I  AM  INSTRUCTED  TO  CAPTURE  AND  SEARCH  A  FEMALE  SMUGGLER  — 
I  PROTEST  IN  VAIN  —  THE  TERRIBLE  ORDEAL  —  BEACTY  BE 
HIND  THE  PULPIT — PILLS,  PLASTERS,  QUININE  —  THE  PATHETIC 
LETTER  —  WE  MEET  UNDER  HAPPIER  STARS. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  hardest  duty  that  it  was  my 
lot  to  perform  during  my  service,  fell  to  me,  and  the  only 
wonder  to  me  is  that  I  am  alive  today  to  tell  of  it.  If  1 
ever  get  a  pension  it  will  be  on  account  of  night  sweats, 
caused  by  the  terrible  and  trying  work  that  was  assigned 
to  me.  One  day  the  colonel  sent  for  me,  and  I  knew  at 
once  that  there  was  something  unusual  in  the  wind.  After 
seating  myself  in  his  tent  he  opened  the  subject  by  asking 
me  if  I  wasn't  something  of  a  hand  to  be  agreeable  to  the 
ladies.  I  told  him,  with  many  blushes,  that  if  there  was 
one  thing  on  this  earth  that  I  thought  was  nicer  than 
everything  else,  it  was  a  lady,  and  that  a  good  woman  was 
the  noblest  work  of  God.  He  said  he  was  on  to  all  of  that, 
but  it  wasn't  a  good  woman  that  he  was  after.  That 
startled  me  a  little.  I  had  heard  the  officers  had  a  habit 
of  fooling  around  a  good  deal  with  certain  females,  and  I 
told  the  colonel  that  any  duty  that  I  was  assigned  to  I 
would  perform  to  the  best  of  my  poor  ability,  but  I  could 
not  go  around  with  the  girls  as  officers  did,  because  I 
couldn't  afford  it,  and  it  was  against  my  principles,  any 
way.  He  showed  me  a  picture  of  a  beautiful  woman,  and 
asked  me  if  I  would  know  her  if  I  saw  her  again.  I  told 
Mm  I  could  pick  her  out  of  a  thousand.  He  said  sne  was 


HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

a  smuggler.  She  had  a  pass  from  a  general,  who  seemed 
to  be  under  her  influence  to  a  certain  extent,  for  some 
reason,  and  went  in  and  out  of  the  lines  freely.  The 
general  didn't  want  to  order  her  arrest,  because  she  would 
squeal  on  him,  but  he  wanted  her  arrested  all  the  same, 
and  the  idea  was  to  have  some  corporal  in  charge  of  a 
picket  post  take  the  responsibility  of  arresting  her  without 
orders,ref  use  to  recognize  her  pass,  take  the  quinine  and  other 
medicines,  and  money  away  from  her,  and  then  be  arrested 
himselt  for  exceeding  his  authority.  He  said  they  wanted 
a  corporal  who  had  every  appearance  of  being  a  big-headed 
idiot,  and  yet  who  knew  what  he  was  about,  who  knew 
something  about  women,  and  who  could  do  such  a  job  up 
in  shape,  and  never  let  the  woman  know  that  the  general 
or  anybody  had  anything  to  do  with  her  arrest.  The  idea 
was  to  catch  her  in  the  act  of  smuggling  quinine  through 
the  lines  to  the  rebels,  by  the  act  of  a  fresh  corporal  who 
took  the  matter  into  his  own  hands,  and  who  claimed  that 
the  pass  she  had  from  the  general  was  a  forgery.  Then  the 
general  could,  when  the  woman  was  brought  before  him, 
be  indignant  at  the  corporal  for  insulting  a  woman,  and 
order  him  arrested,  and  he  could  also  go  back  on  the 
woman,  and  have  her  sent  away,  after  which  he  would  re 
lease  the  corporal,  and  perhaps  promote  him,  and  all  would 
be  well.  It  was  as  pretty  a  scheme  as  I  ever  listened  to, 
and  I  consented  to  do  the  duty,  though  I  wouldn't  do  it 
again  for  a  million  dollars.  The  colonel  told  me  to  take 
four  men  and  go  to  a  particular  place  on  an  unfrequented 
road,  near  a  school  house,  and  put  out  a  picket.  The 
female  would  be  along  during  the  afternoon,  on  horseback, 
and  when  she  showed  her  pass,  one  of  the  men  must  take 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  155 

hold  of  her  horse  and  hold  him,  while  I  kicked  about  the 
pass,  made  her  dismount,  and  searched  her  for  quinine. 
I  turned  ashy  pale  when  the  colonel  said  that,  and  I  said 
to  him: 

"  Colonel,  for  heaven's  sake  don't  compel  me  to  search 
a  woman.  I  have  a  family  at  home,  and  they  will  hear  of 
it.  My  political  enemies  will  use  it  against  me  at  home 
when  I  run  for  office,  after  the  war.  Let  me  bring  her 
here  to  your  tent,  and  you  search  her." 

"No,  that  would  spoil  all/'  said  the  colonel.  "We 
want  her  searched  right  there  at  the  little  school  house,  by 
a  corporal  without  apparent  authority,  and  every  last 
quinine  i)ill  taken  off  of  he*\  If  she  was  brought  here  she 
would  cry,  and  rare,  ana  we  snouid  weaken,  because  we 
know  her,  and  have  been  entertained  at  her  house.  You 
are  supposed  to  be  a  heartless  corporal,  with  no  sentiment, 
no  mercy,  no  nothing,  just  a  delver  after  smuggled  quinine. 
Besides,  I  too,  have  a  family,  and  I  don't  want  to  search 
no  females.  By  the  way,  one  of  the  general's  staff  saw 
her  last  night,  and  drew  the  cartridges  from  her  revolver, 
and  put  in  some  blank  cartridges.  If  the  worst  comes,  she 
will  draw  her  revolver  on  you,  and  perhaps  fire  at  you, 
but  there  are  no  balls  in*  her  revolver,  so  you  needn't  be 
afraid." 

"  But  suppose  she  has  two  revolvers,"  I  asked,  "and  one 
is  loaded  with  bullets?" 

"I  don't  think  she  has,"  said  the  colonel.  "But  we 
have  to  take  some  chances,  you  know.  Now  go  right 
*!ong.  Treat  her  like  a  lady,  disbelieve  everything  she 
says,  and  insist  on  searching  her.  The  general  says  she 
wears  an  enormous  bustle,  and  probably  that  is  full  of 

12 


156  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

•j 

quinine.  Use  your  judgement,  but  get  it  all.  Pretend  to 
be  an  ignorant  sort  of  a  corporal  who  feels  that  the  success 
of  the  war  depends  on  him,  act  as  though  you  outranked 
the  general,  and  tell  her  you  would  not  let  her  pass  with 
that  quinine  if  the  general  himself  was  present.  Just  dis 
play  plenty  of  gall,  and  when  you  have  got  the  quinine,  bring 
the  girl  here,  and  I  will  abuse  you,  and  you  take  it  like  a 
little  man,  and  all  will  be  well.  If  she  bites  and  scratches, 
some  of  you  will  have  to  hold  her,  but  the  best  way  will  be 
to  argue  with  her,  and  persuade  her  by  honied  words,  to 
come  down  with  the  quinine.  Go!" 

ff  One  word,  colonel,  before  I  go,"  I  said.  "  About 
how  many  men  should  you  think  it  would  take  to  hold 
this  woman?  You  suggested  three,  but  if  one  holds  her 
horse,  it  seems  to  me,  from  my  knowledge  of  female  kick 
ing,  biting  and  scratching,  that  I  would  need  one  man  for 
each  arm  and  foot,  one  to  hold  her  head  and  choke  her,  if 
necessary,  and  one  with  a  roving  commission  to  work 
around  where  he  would  be  apt  to  make  himself  useful. 
What  do  you  say  if  I  take  five  men  ?  " 

"  All  right,  take  six,"  said  the  colonel.  te  One  may  be 
disabled,  or  have  his  jaw  kicked  off,  or  something.  But 
don't  detail  anybody  to  search  her.  Do  that  yourself,  and 
do  it  like  a  gentleman.  And  above  all  things,  do  not  let 
her  kanoodle  you  with  soft  words  and  looks  of  love,  be 
cause  she  is  full  of  'em.  If  she  can't  scare  you,  with  her 
indignation  at  the  outrage  of  arresting  and  searching  her, 
ehe  will  try  to  capture  you  and  make  you  love  her.  You 
must  be  as  firm  as  adamant.  Now  hurry  up." 

I  picked  out  six  men,  four  of  whom  were  young  Amen* 
Cftns,  rather  handsome,  and  very  polite,  regular  mashers. 


fcOWtf  1HE  EBBxiLLlOK.  157 

Then  I  had  an  Irishman  named  Duffy,  and  a  German 
named  Holzmeyer,  who  was  a  butcher.  We  went  out  on 
the  road,  to  the  school  house,  and  I  put  the  Irishman  on 
picket,  and  instructed  the  German  about  taking  the  horse 
by  the  bridle  at  the  proper  time.  Then  the  rest  of  us  got 
behind  the  school  house  and  waited.  For  two  hours  we 
waited,  and  I  had  a  chance  to  think  over  the  situation. 
Here  I  was,  putting  down  the  rebellion,  laying  for  a 
woman,  who  was  loaded.  At  home,  I  was  a  polite  man, 
and  full  of  fun,  a  person  any  lady  might  be  proud  to  meet 
and  talk  with,  but  here  I  was  expected  to  do  something, 
for  thirteen  dollars  a  month,  to  put  down  the  rebellion, 
which  there  was  not  money  enough  in  the  whole  state  of 
Wisconsin  to  hire  me  to  do.  Was  it  such  a  crime  to  carry 
a  little  quinine  to  a  sick  friend  ?  Suppose  a  rebel  was 
sick  with  ague,  and  I  had  quinine,  would  I  see  him  shake 
himself  out  of  his  boots  and  not  give  him  medicine?  No, 
I  would  divide  my  last  quinine  powder  with  him.  So 
would  any  soldier.  If  it  was  not  treason  to  give  one  rebel 
a  quinine  powder,  when  he  was  sick,  why  should  it  be 
treason  to  take  along  enough  for  a  whole  lot  of  sick  rebels? 
Did  our  government  want  to  put  down  the  rebellion  by 
keeping  medicines  away  from  a  sick  enemy?  Were  we  to 
gloat  over  the  number  of  rebels  who  died  of  disease,  that 
we  could  save  by  sending  them  medicines?  It  seemed  to 
me,  if  I  was  in  command  of  the  army,  instead  of  arresting 
women  for  carrying  medicine  to  their  sick  brothers,  I 
would  load  up  a  wagon  with  medicine  and  send  it  to  them, 
and  say,  "  Here,  you  fellows,  fire  this  quinine  down  your 
necks,  and  get  well,  and  then  if  you  want  to  fight  any 
more,  come  out  on  the  field  and  we  will  give  you  the  best 


158  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

turn  in  the  wheel-house. "  It  seemed  to  me  that  would  be 
the  way  to  win  the  enemy  over,  and  that  they  would  be 
thankful,  take  the  medicine,  get  well,  and  then  say, 
"  Boys,  these  Yankees  are  pretty  good  fellows  after  all. 
Let's  quit  fighting,  and  call  it  quits/'  But  I  was  not  run 
ning  the  war,  and  had  got  to  obey  orders,  if  I  broke  heart 
strings  and  corset  strings.  I  would  have  given  anything 
to  have  got  out  of  the  job.  The  idea  of  arresting  a  woman 
and  searching  her,  and  seeing  her  cry,  and  have  her  think 
me  a  hard-hearted  wretch,  was  revolting,  and  I  found  my 
self  wishing  she  would  take  some  other  road.  May  be  she 
looked  like  somebody  that  I  knew  at  home,  and  may  be 
she  had  a  big  broker  in  the  Confederate  army  who  would 
look  me  up  after  the  war  and  everlastingly  maul  the  life 
out  of  me  for  insulting  his  sister.  I  made  up  my  mind  if 
anything  of  that  kind  happened  I  would  tell  on  the  general 
and  the  colonel,  and  get  them  whipped,  too. 

"  Phat  the  divil  is  it  coming,"  said  the  Irishman. 
"Corporal  of  the  guard,  the  quane  of  all  the  South  is 
coming  down  the  road,  riding  a  high  stepper.  Phat  will  I 
do,  I  dunno  ?  " 

"  Stop  her,"  I  yelled  with  my  teeth  chattering. 

'•  Halt  right  fhere  yez  are,"  said  the  Irishman,  with  a 
look  on  his  face  that  showed  he  was — well,  that  he  was  an 
Irishman,  and  had  an  eye  for  beauty.  The  German  had 
taken  the  horse  by  the  bit,  and  I  stepped  out  from  behind 
the  school  house. 

Great  heavens,  but  she  was  a  beautiful  woman,  and  she 
sat  on  her  horse  like  a  statue.  I  had  never  seen  a  more 
beautiful  woman.  She  was  a  brunette,  with  large  black 
eyes,  and  her  face  was  flushed  with  the  exercise  of  riding. 


PUT  DOWK  THE  REBELLION".  150 

She  smiled  and  showed  two  rows  of  the  prettiest  teeth  that 
ever  were  put  into  a  female  mouth,  and  one  ungloved  hand, 
with  which  she  handed  me  the  pass  had  a  dimple  at  every 
knuckle,  and  was  as  white  as  paper,  and  soft  as  silk.  1 
know  it  was  soft,  because  it  touched  my  red,  freckled  hand 
when  I  took  the  pass.  I  did  not  blame  the  general  foi 
being  in  love  with  her,  or  for  wanting  to  saw  oif  the  un 
pleasant  duty  of  breaking  up  her  smuggling,  on  to  a  pooi 
orphan  like  me.  She  said  : 

"Captain,  I  have  a  pass  from  the  general,  to  go 
through  the  lines  at  any  time,  unmolested." 

"  It  is  no  good,"  I  said,  examining  it.  "  This  pass  i? 
evidently  a  forgery." 

"  But,  my  dear  captain,"  she  said,  with  a  smile  that  I 
would  give  ten  dollars  for  a  picture  of,  "  The  pass  is  not  2 
forgery.  I  have  used  it  for  months." 

"  I  am  not  a  dear  captain,  only  a  cheap  corporal,"  ] 
said,  with  an  attempt  to  be  at  my  ease,  which  I  wasn't. 
"  There  has  been  at  least  a  wagon  load  of  quinine  smug 
gled  through  the  lines  on  this  pass,  and  it  has  got  to  stop  ; 
you  cannot  go." 

"  The  dickens  you  say,"  said  she  as  she  drew  her  re 
volver,  and  sung  out,  "let  go  that  horse,"  and  firing  at 
the  German. 

"  Kritz-dunner wetter,"  said  the  German,  as  he  got 
down  by  the  horse's  fore  feet,  and  held  on  to  the  bridle, 
"  vot  vor  you  choot  a  man  ven  he  holt  your  horse  ?  " 

"  Madame,"  I  said,  "  your  revolver  is  loaded  with 
blank  cartridges,  and  you  can  do  no  harm.  Try  another 
one  on  the  Irishman." 

"Hold  on,"  said  the  Irishman,  "and  don't  experiment 


160  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOEGE   W.  PECK 

on  a  poor  man  who  has  a  wife  and  six  children.    Shoot  the 
corporal." 

But  I  had  reached  up  and  taken  the  revolver  from  her, 
and  she  was  weak  as  a  kitten.  Her  nerve  had  forsaken 
her,  and  when  I  told  her  to  dismount  she  was  like  a  rag, 
and  had  to  be  helped  down.  If  she  was  beautiful  before, 
now  that  she  had  started  her  tear  mill,  she  was  ravishingly 
radiant,  and  I  felt  like  a  villain.  She  leaned  on  my  shoul 
der,  and  it  was  the  loveliest  burden  a  soldier  ever  held.  I 
seated  her  on  the  steps  of  the  schoolhouse,  and  I  thought 
she  would  faint,  but  she  didn't.  She  was  evidently  taken 
by  surprise,  and  wanted  a  little  time  to  think  it  over,  and 
form  a  plan.  So  did  I.  As  I  looked  her  over,  and  thought 
what  I  was  expected  to  do,  I  wondered  where  it  would  be 
best  to  commence.  She  began  to  recover,  smiled  at  me 
and  asked  me  to  have  the  other  soldiers  go  away,  so  she 
could  talk  with  me.  I  wished  she  wouldn't  smile  like  that, 
because  it  unnerved  me.  She  asked  me  what  I  was  going 
to  do  with  her,  what  caused  me  to  suspect  her,  if  I  would 
not  believe  her  if  she  told  me  she  was  not  a  smuggler,  if  I 
had  orders  to  arrest  her,  and  all  that.  I  said,  "Madame, 
my  orders  are  to  arrest  all  quinine  smugglers,  and  you  are 
one.  I  am  Hawkshaw,  the  detective.  For  months  I  have 
shadowed  you,  and  I  know  you  have  concealed  about  your 
person  a  whole  drug  store.  In  that  innocent  looking  bus 
tle  I  feel  that  there  is  quinine  for  the  million.  Your  heav 
ing  bosom  contains,  besides  love  for  your  friends  and 
hatred  of  your  enemies,  a  storehouse  of  useful  medicines, 
contraband  of  war.  In  your  stockings  there  is  much  that 
would  interest  the  seeker  after  the  truth,  your  corset  that 
fits  you  §o  beautifully  is.  liable  to  be  full  of  revolver  car* 


PUT   DOWK  THE    REBELLION.  161 

iridges,  while  in  your  shoes  there  may  be  messages  to  the 
rebels.  I  shall  search  you  from  Genesis  to  Revelations, 
and  may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  both  of  us.  To  begin, 
please  let  me  examine  the  hat  you  have  on." 

With  some  reluctance  she  took  off  a  sort  of  half -stove 
pipe  hat,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief  while 
I  looked  into  it.  I  found  a  package  of  newly  printed  con 
federate  bonds,  and  a  quantity  of  court  plaster.  That  set 
tled  it.  She  cried  a  little,  and  wanted  to  go  into  the 
schoolhouse.  I  went  in  with  her,  and  two  of  my  soldiers.  I 
told  her  that  it  was  a  duty  that  was  pretty  tough,  but  it  was 
necessary  for  her  to  disrobe,  as  I  must  have  every  article 
she  had.  She  cried,  and  said  if  I  searched  her,  or  molested 
her,  I  would  do  it  at  my  peril,  and  that  I  wouldn't  know 
how  to  go  to  work  to  take  off  her  clothes,  anyway,  and 
that  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself.  I  told  her  I  felt  as 
ashamed  as  any  gentleman  could,  and  though  I  knew  little 
about  the  details  of  the  female  apparel,  I  had  some  gen 
eral  ideas  about  bustles,  polonaise,  socks,  skirts,  and  so 
forth,  and  while  I  might  be  awkward,  and  uncouth,  and 
nervous,  as  long  as  there  were-  buttons  to  unbutton,  hooks 
to  unhook,  and  safety-pins  to  unpin,  I  thought  I  could 
eventually  get  to  the  quinine,  if  she  would  give  me  time, 
and  I  did  not  faint  by  the  wayside,  but  my  idea  was  that  it 
would  save  all  trouble,  her  modesty  would  not  receive  a 
shock,  nor  mine  either,  if  she  would  go  behind  the  little 
pulpit  in  the  schoolhouse,  out  of  sight  of  us,  take  off  her 
clothes,  and  hand  them  over  the  pulpit  to  us  to  examine. 
She  said  she  would  die  first,  besides,  she  knew  we  would 
peek  around  the  pulpit  at  her.  I  was  getting  very  nervous, 
and  perspiring  a  good  deal,  and  wishing  it  was  over,  and  I 


J62  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

swore,  upon  my  honor,  that  if  she  would  go  behind  the 
pulpit  and  disrobe,  she  should  be  as  safe  from  intrusion  as 
though  she  was  in  her  own  room.  She  swore  she  would 
not,  and  I  went  up  to  her  to  commence  unraveling  the 
mystery.  Her  dress  hooked  up  in  the  back,  which  I  al 
ways  did  think  a  great  nuisance,  and  I  began  to  unhook 
it.  I  wondered  that  she  stood  so  quietly  and  let  me  un 
hook  it,  but  after  it  was  unhooked  from  the  neck  to  the 
small  of  her  back,  and  I  was  wishing  I  was  dead,  she 
said: 

"  There,  now  that  you  have  got  my  dress  unhooked,  a 
feat  I  never  could  accomplish  myself,  I  will  go  behind  the 
pulpit  and  take  off  my  dress,  if  you  will  promise  not  to 
look,  and  that  you  will  help  me  hook  up  my  dress  when 
this  cruel  quinine  war  is  over." 

I  told  her  by  the  great  Jehosephat,  and  the  continental 
congress,  I  would  help  her,  and  that  I  would  kill  anybody 
who  looked,  and  she  went  behind  the  schoolhouse  pulpit, 
where  a  country  preacher,  very  likely,  preached  on  Sun 
days,  and  bent  over  out  of  sight,  and  it  wasn't  half  a  min 
ute  before  she  handed  the  dress  over  to  me.  In  the  pockets 
I  found  several  papers  of  some  kind  of  medicine,  and  a  few 
small  bottles,  sealed  up  with  red  sealing-wax. 

' ( Now,  the  bustle,  please,"  I  said,  in  a  voice  trembling 
with  emotion. 

' •  Take  your  old  bustle,"  she  said,  as  she  whacked  it  on 
the  top  of  the  pulpit. 

Well,  if  anybody  had  told  me  that  a  bustle  could  be 
made  to  hold  stuff  enough  to  fill  a  bushel-basket,  I  would 
not  have  believed  it.  We  filled  three  nose-bags,  such  as 
cavalrymen  feed  horses  in,  with  paper  packages  and  bottles 


PUT  DOWN   THE  KEBELLION.  163 

of  quinine.  There  were  thirty  bottles  of  pills,  and  salves 
and  ointments,  and  plasters. 

This  is  panning  out  first  rate,"  I  said,  with  less  emotion. 
The  emotion  was  somehow  getting  out  of  me,  and  the 
affair  was  becoming  more  of  a  mercantile  transaction.  It 
was  like  a  young  druggist  going  from  the  side  of  his  be 
loved,  to  the  drug  store,  to  take  an  inventory.  "Now 
hand  out  that  other  lot." 

She  evidently  knew  what  I  referred  to,  for  she  handed 
out  over  the  pulpit  a  package  just  exactly  the  shape  of  what 
I  had  supposed,  in  my  guileless  innocence,  was  a  portion 
of  the  female  form.  That  is,  I  had  suspected  it  was  not 
all  human  form,  but  didn't  know.  That  was  also  full  of 
medicines,  of  which  quinine  was  the  larger  part,  though 
there  was  about  a  pint  of  gun  caps. 

"  Speaking  about  stockings,"  I  said,  "please  take  them 
off  and  hand  them  over." 

She  kicked  about  taking  off  her  shoes  and  stockings, 
and  said  no  gentleman  would  compel  a  lady  to  do  that.  I 
said  I  would  wait  about  two  minutes,  and  then,  if  it  was 
too  much  trouble  for  her  to  take  them  off,  I  would  come 
around  the  pulpit  and  help.  Bless  you,  I  wouldn't  have 
gone  for  the  world,  as  I  was  already  more  than  satisfied  with 
what  I  had  found.  She  said  I  needn't  trouble  myself,  as 
she  guessed  she  could  take  off  her  shoes  without  my  help. 
I  heard  her  unlacing  her  shoes,  and  pretty  soon  two  dainty 
shoes  and  two  very  long  stockings,  came  over  the  pulpit, 
the  heel  of  one  shoe  hitting  me  in  the  ear.  As  I  picked 
up  the  shoes  I  heard  the  crumpling  of  a  letter  behind  the 
pulpit,  and  I  told  her  I  must  have  all  the  messages  she 
She  said  it  was  only  a  letter  to  one  she  loved.  I  told 


164  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOEGE   W.  PECK 

her  I  must  have  it,  and  she  handed  it  over.  I  read,  ' '  My 
darling  husband/'  and  handed  it  back,  saying  I  would  not 
pry  into  her  family  secrets.  She  began  to  cry,  and  in 
sisted  on  my  reading  it,  which  I  did.  It  was  to  her  hus 
band,  an  officer  in  the  Confederate  army,  and  was  about 
as  follows  : 

"  MY  DARLING  HUSBAND  :  —  This  life  of  deception  is 
killing  me.  I  want  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  help  our  cause, 
but  I  am  each  day  more  nervous,  and  liable  to  detection. 
The  Yankee  officers  are  frequently  at  our  house,  and  I  have 
to  treat  them  kindly,  but  it  is  all  I  can  do  to  keep  from 
crying,  and  I  am  expected  to  laugh.  I  fear  that  I  am  sus 
pected  of  smuggling,  as  the  subject  is  frequently  brought 
up  in  conversation,  and  I  feel  my  face  burn,  though  I  try 
hard  not  to  show  it.  I  think  of  you,  away  off  in  Virginia, 
with  your  armless  sleeve,  our  children  in  New  Orleans, 
and  I  wonder  if  we  will  ever  be  united  again.  0,  God, 
when  will  this  all  end.  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  the 
Federal  troops.  The  officers  are  very  kind  and  through 
one  fatherly  general  I  am  allowed  to  pass  into  our  lines.  I 
feel  that  I  am  betraying  his  kindness  every  trip  I  make, 
and  only  the  urgent  need  that  our  dear  boys  have  for  med 
icines  could  induce  me  to  do  as  I  do.  After  this  trip  I 
shall  go  to  New  Orleans,*  where  I  fear  Madge  is  sick,  as  she 

*Eighteen  months  after  the  lady  rode  away  from  me,  leaving  her  quinine, 
I  was  in  New  Orleans,  to  be  mustered  in  as  Second  Lieutenant,  having  re 
ceived  a  commission.  I  had  bought  me  a  fine  uniform,  and  thought  I  was 
about  as  cunning  a  looking  f •  'fleer  as  ever  was.  I  was  walking  on  Canal  street, 
looking  in  the  windows,  and  finally  went  into  a  store  to  buy  some  collars. 
A  gentleman  came  in  with  a  gray  uniform  on,  and  one  sleeve  empty.  He 
was  evidently  a  Confederate  officer.  He  asked  me  if  I  did  not  belong  to  a 
certain  cavalry  regiment,  and  if  my  name  was  not  so  and  so.  I  told  him  he 
was  correct.  He  told  me  there  was  a  lady  in  an  adjoining  store  that  wanted 
to  see  me.  I  did  not  know  a  soul,  that  is,  a  female  soul,  in  New  Orleans,  but 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  165 

wa»  not  at  all  well  the  last  I  heard  from  her.  Pray  earn 
estly,  my  dear  husband,  every  day,  as  I  do,  that  this 
trouble  may  end  soon,  some  way,  and  I  beg  of  you  not  to 
have  a  feeling  of  revenge  in  your  heart  towards  your  ene 
mies,  011  account  of  the  loss  of  your  arm,  as  there  are 
thousands  of  Federals  similiarly  afflicted.  I  shall  love  you 
more,  and  I  will  wrap  your  empty  sleeve  about  my  neck, 
and  try  never  to  miss  the  strong  arm  that  was  my  support. 
Adieu."  Your  loving  wife. 

That  letter  knocked  me  out  in  one  round.  I  had  be 
gun  to  enjoy  the  unpacking  of  the  smuggled  goods,  and 
the  discomfiture  of  my  female  smuggler,  but  when  I  read 
that  loving  letter,  breathing  such  a  Christian  spirit,  and 
thought  of  the  poor  wife-mother  behind  the  pulpit  unrav 
elling  herself,  I  was  ashamed,  and  I  said  to  myself,  "  she 
shall  not  take  off  another  rag."  So  I  handed  back  the 
letter  and  the  dress,  and  all  of  the  things  she  had  taken 
off,  and  I  said  : 

"  Put  everything  right  back  onto  yourself,  and  come  out 
at  your  leisure,"  and  we  took  the  medicines  and  went  out 

I  went  with  him.  Any  lady  that  wanted  to  see  me,  in  my  new  uniform,  could 
see  me.  As  we  entered  the  store  a  lady  left  two  little  girls  and  rushed  up  to 
me,  threw  her  arms  around  my  neck  and  —  (say,  does  a  fellow  have  to  tell 
everything,  when  he  writes  a  war  history?)  Well,  she  was  awfully  tickled 
to  see  me,  and  she  was  my  smuggler,  the  Confederate  was  her  husband,  and 
the  children  were  hers.  The  officer  was  as  tickled  as  she  was,  and  they  com 
pelled  me  to  go  to  their  house  to  dinner,  and  I  enjoyed  it  very  much.  We 
talked  over  the  arrest  of  the  "  female  smuggler,"  and  she  said  to  her  hus 
band,  "  Pa,  it  was  an  awfully  embarrassing  situation  for  me  and  this  Yankee, 
but  he  treated  me  like  a  lady,  and  the  only  thing  I  have  to  find  fault  about, 
is  that  he  forgot  to  help  me  hook  up  my  dress,  and  I  rode  clear  to  town  with 
it  unhooked."  The  Confederate  had  been  discharged  at  the  surrender,  and 
3  was  on  my  way  to  Texas,  to  serve  another  year,  hunting  Indians.  I  left 
them  very  happy,  and  as  I  went  out  of  their  door  ske  wrapped  his  empty 
aleeve  around  her  waist,  drew  the  children  up  to  her,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Yan 
kee,  may  you  always  be  very  happy," 


166  HOW    PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

of  the  schoolhouse.  Presently  she  came  out,  and  I  told 
her  it  was  my  duty  to  take  her  back  to  headquarters,  but 
if  she  had  no  objections  to  my  taking  the  letter  to  the 
general,  with  the  medicines,  she  could  go  back  to  the  house 
where  she  boarded,  and  I  thought  if  she  took  the  first  boat 
for  New  Orleans,  it  would  be  all  right,  and  I  would  see 
that  the  letter  was  sent  through  the  lines  to  her  husband. 
I  helped  her  on  her  horse,  and  I  said  : 

"You  can  escape.  Your  horse  is  better  than  ours, 
and  though  you  are  a  prisoner,  we  would  not  shoot  at  you 
if  you  tried  to  escape.  I  hope  your  prayers  will  have  the 
effect  you  desire,  and  that  the  trouble  will  soon  be  over. 
I  hope  you  will  find  the  children  well,  and  that  the  hus 
band  will  be  spared  to  be  a  comfort  to  you." 

She  bowed  her  head,  as  she  sat  in  the  saddle,  and  the 
look  of  defiance  which  she  had  shown,  was  gone,  and  one 
of  thankfulness,  peace,  hope,  purity,  took  its  place.  She 
handed  me  the  letter,  and  asked  : 

"  Can  I  go?" 

I  told  her  she  was  free  to  go.  She  turned  her  horse 
towards  town,  touched  him  with  the  whip,  and  he  was 
away  like  the  wind.  I  stood  for  two  minutes,  watching 
her,  when  I  was  recalled  to  my  senses  by  the  Irishman, 
who  said  : 

"  Fhat  are  we  to  do  wid  the  quinane  and  the  gun  caps?" 

"VVe  packed  the  smuggled  goods  in  our  saddle-bags  and 
elsewhere,  and  rode  back  to  headquarters.  The  colonel 
and  the  general  were  in  the  colonel's  tent,  and  I  took  the 
stuff  in  and  reported  all  the  occurrences. 

"But  where  is  the  lady?"  inquired  the  general,  after 
reading  the  letter  and  wiping  his  eyes. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  167 

"As  we  were  about  to  start  back,"  said  I,  "after  tak 
ing  the  smuggled  goods  from  her,  she  gave  her  horse  the 
whip,  and  rode  away.  I  had  no  orders  to  shoot  a  woman, 
taid  I  let  her  go." 

ee  Thank  God,"  said  the  general. 

"That's  the  best  way,"  said  the  colonel.  "She  will 
<[uit  smuggling  and  go  to  her  children." 


168  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECi" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  FEMALE  SMUGGLER  EPISODE  MAKES  ME  FAMOUS  — I  AM 
SENT  FORTH  IN  WOMEN'S  CLOTHES  —  MY  INTERVIEW  WITH 
THE  BAD  CORPORAL  — A  FIST  FIGHT  — THE  REBELLION  is 
Pur  DOWN  ONCE  MORE  —  I  REVEAL  MY  IDENTITY. 

It  was  not  twenty-four  hours  before  the  news  spread  all 
over  my  regiment,  as  well  as  several  other  regiments,  that 
a  certain  corporal  had  captured  a  female  smuggler,  while 
on  picket,  had  searched  her  on  the  spot  and  found  a  large 
quantity  of  quinine  and  other  articles  contraband  of  war^ 
and  there  was  a  general  desire  to  look  upon  tne  leatures  of 
a  man,  not  a  commissioned  officer  who  had  gall  enough  to 
search  a  female  rebel,  from  top  to  toe,  without  orders  from 
the  commanding  officer,  and  I  was  constantly  being  visited 
by  curiosity-seekers,  who  wanted  to  know  all  about  it.  Of 
course  it  was  not  known  that  I  had  been  ordered  to  do  as  I 
did,  and  they  all  wondered  why  I  was  not  made  an  ex- 
ample  o|;  and  many  privates,  corporals  and  sergeants 
wondered  if  they  would  get  out  of  it  so  easily  if  they 
should  do  as  I  did.  There  were  a  great  niany  women  pass 
ing  through  the  lines,  arid  I  am  sure  many  soldiers  decided 
that  the  first  woman  who  attempted  to  pass  through  would 
get  searched.  It  was  talked  among  the  men,  and  for  a  day 
or  two  a  lady  would  certainly  have  stood  a  poor  show  to 
have  rode  up  to  a  picket  post  with  a  pass  to  go  outside. 
The  soldiers  had  so  long  been  away  from  female  society 
that  it  would  have  been  a  picnic  for  them  to  have  captured 
a  suspicious  looking  woman  who  was  pretty.  I  was  pointed 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  169 

out,  down  town,  as  the  man  who  captured  the  woman 
loaded  with  quinine,  and  women  with  rebel  tendencies 
would  look  at  me  as  though  I  was  a  bold,  bad  man  that 
ought  to  be  killed,  and  they  acted  as  though  they  would 
like  to  eat  me.  But  I  tried  to  appear  modest,  and  not  as 
though  I  had  done  anything  I  was  particularly  proud  of. 
The  next  evening  the  colonel  sent  for  me  and  said  he  had 
got  something  for  me  to  do  that  required  nerve.  I  told 
him  that  my  experience  in  putting  down  the  rebellion  had 
shown  me  that  the  whole  thing  required  nerve.  That  I 
had  been  on  my  nerve  until  my  nerves  were  pretty  near 
used  up,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  couldn't  let  some  of  the 
other  boys  do  a  little  of  the  nervous  work.  He  said  he  had 
one  more  woman  job  that  he  would  like  to  have  me  under 
take.  I  was  sick  of  the  whole  woman  business,  and  told 
him  I  did  not  want  to  be  aggravated  any  more  ;  that  ar 
resting  women  and  searching  them,  was  nothing  but  an 
aggravation,  and  I  wanted  to  be  let  out.  He  said  in  this 
case  I  would  not  have  to  arrest  anybody  of  the  female  per 
suasion,  but  that  I  would  have  to  be  arrested,  and  that  it 
would  be  the  greatest  joke  that  ever  was.  I  told  him  if 
there  was  any  joke  about  it  he  could  count  me  in.  Then 
he  went  on  to  say  that  my  success  with  the  female  smug 
gler  had  excited  all  the  boys  to  emulate  my  deeds,  and  they 
were  all  laying  for  a  female  smuggler,  and  that  he  feared 
it  wouldn't  be  safe  for  a  woman  to  be  caught  on  the  picket 
line.  There  had  got  to  be  a  stop  put  to  it,  and  he  and  the 
general  had  thought  of  a  scheme.  He  said  there  was  a 
corporal  in  one  of  the  companies  who  had  made  his  brags 
that  he  would  arrest  the  first  female  that  came  to  his  picket 
post,  and  search  her  for  smuggled  goods,  and  they  wanted 

is 


170  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

to  make  an  example  of  him.  He  asked  me  if  I  wasn't  some 
thing  of  a  boxeiv  and  I  told  him  for  a  light  weight  I  was 
considered  pretty  good.  Then  he  asked  me  if  I  could  ride 
on  a  side  saddle.  I  told  him  I  could  ride  anything,  from 
a  hobby  to  an  elephant.  He  said  that  was  all  right,  and  I 
would  fill  the  bill.  Then  he  went  into  details.  I  was  to 
go  to  the  town  with  him,  and  be  fitted  out  with  a  riding 
habit  of  the  female  persuasion,  false  hair,  side  saddle,  and 
a  bustle  as  big  as  a  bushel  basket.  That  I  was  to  ride  out 
on  a  certain  road,  where  the  corporal  would  be  on  picket 
with  two  men.  He  would  stop  me,  and  search  me,  I  was 
to  cry,  and  beg,  and  all  that,  but  finally  submit  to  be 
searched,  and  after  the  corporal  had  got  started  to  search 
me,  I  was  to  haul  off  and  give  him  one  "  biff  "  in  the  nose, 
another  if  it  was  necessary  to  knock  him  down,  paste  one 
of  the  men  in  the  ear,  if  he  showed  any  impudence,  jump 
on  my  horse  and  come  back  to  town,  and  leave  the  corporal 
to  find  his  mistake. 

I  didn't  half  like  the  idea  of  dressing  up  in  such  a  mas- 
quering  costume,  but  of  course  if  I  could  help  put  down 
the  rebellion  that  way,  it  was  my  duty  to  do  it,  and  be 
sides,  I  had  a  grudge  against  that  corporal,  anyway,  be 
cause  he  called  me  a  "jay "and  a  "substitute,"  and  a 
" drafted  man,"  when  I  came  to  the  regiment.  The  colo 
nel  took  me  to  the  residence  of  a  lady  friend  who  rode  on 
horseback  a  good  deal,  and  as  he  let  her  into  the  secret, 
she  helped  fix  me  up.  All  I  had  to  do  was  to  remove  my 
cavalry  jacket,  and  she  put  the  dress  on  over  my  head.  I 
always  supposed  they  put  on  these  dresses  the  same  as  men 
put  on  pants,  by  walking  into  them  feet  first,  but  she  said 
they  went  ove^  the  head.  T  felt  as  though  my  pants  were 


PUT   DOWK  THE   REBELLION.  171 

going  to  show,  but  she  gave  me  some  instructions  about 
keeping  the  dress  down,  and  I  began  to  feel  a  good  deal 
like  a  woman.  The  dress  fit  me  around  the  waist  as  though 
it  was  made  for  me,  and  when  it  was  all  buttoned  up  in 
front  I  felt  stunning.  She  and  the  colonel  made  a  bustle 
out  of  newspapers,  and  a  small  sofa  cushion  of  eider  down 
was  placed  where  it  would  do  the  most  good.  After  the 
dress  was  all  fixed,  she  got  a  wig  and  put  it  on  my  head, 
and  a  hat,  with  a  feather  in  it,  and  then  pinned  a  veil  on 
the  hair,  so  it  reached  down  to  my  rose-bud  mouth. 
Then  she  took  a  powder  arrangement  and  powdered  my 
face,  put  on  a  pair  of  long  gauntlets  which  she  usually 
wore,  and  told  me  to  look  in  the  glass.  When  I  looked 
into  the  glass  I  almost  fainted.  The  deception  was  so  good 
that  it  would  have  fooled  the  oldest  man  in  the  world. 
The  colonel  said  he  was  almost  inclined  to  fall  in  love  with 
me  himself,  and  he  did  put  his  arm  around  me  and  squeeze 
me,  but  I  didu't  notice  any  particular  feeling,  such  as  I  did 
when  his  lady  friend  was  fooling  around  me.  That  was 
different.  Well,  I  was  an  inveterate  smoker  at  that  time, 
so  I  took  my  pipe  and  a  bag  of  tobacco,  and  put  it  in  a 
pocket  of  the  dress,  and  some  matches,  and  we  went  out 
doors.  The  colonel  took  my  tiny  number  eight  boot  in 
his  hand  and  tossed  me  lightly  into  the  saddle,  then  he 
mounted  his  own  horse  and  we  rode  around  the  suburbs  of 
the  town,  so  I  could  get  used  to  the  side-saddle.  I  got  him 
to  stop  behind  a  fence  and  let  me  have  a  smoke  out  of  my 
pipe,  and  then  I  told  him  I  was  ready.  He  gave  me  a  pass, 
and  told  me  to  go  out  on  the  road  the  corporal  was  on,  and 
if  he  let  me  pass  out  of  the  lines  to  go  on  to  a  turn  in  the 
road,  where  a  squad  of  our  men  were  on  a  scout,  and  to  re- 


172  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

port  to  the  officer  in  charge,  who  would  bring  me  in  all 
right,  by  another  road,  but  if  the  corporal  attempted  to 
search  me,  to  do  as  I  had  been  told  to  do.  After  I  had 
knocked  the  corporal  down,  if  I  would  give  a  yell,  the  offi 
cer  who  was  outside  would  come  and  arrest  us  all  and  bring 
us  to  headquarters,  where  the  colonel  could  reprimand  the 
corporal,  etc.  I  threw  a  kiss  to  the  colonel  and  started 
out  on  the  road.  It  was  about  a  mile  to  the  picket  post, 
and  I  had  time  to  reflect  on  my  position.  This  was  put 
ting  down  the  rebellion  at  a  great  rate.  I  was  an  ostensi 
ble  female,  liable  to  be  insulted  at  any  moment,  but  I 
would  maintain  the  dignity  of  my  alleged  sex  if  I  didn't 
lay  up  a  cent.  I  put  on  a  proud,  haughty  look,  full  of 
purity  and  all  that,  and  as  I  neared  the  picket  post,  I  saw 
the  corporal  step  out  into  the  road,  and  as  I  came  up  he 
told  rne  to  halt.  I  halted,  and  handed  him  my  pass,  but  he 
said  it  was  a  forgery,  and  ordered  me  to  dismount.  I 
turned  on  the  water,  from  my  eyes,  and  began  to  cry,  but 
it  run  off  the  bad  corporal  like  water  off  a  duck. 

"None  of  your  sniveling  around  me,"  said  the  vile 
man.  "  Get  down  off  that  horse." 

"Sir,"  I  said,  with  well  feigned  indignation,  "you 
would  not  molest  a  poor  girl  who  has  no  one  to  defend  her. 
Let  me  go  I  prithe." 

I  had  read  that,  "Let  me  go  I  prithe,"  in  a  novel,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  proper  thing  to  say,  thou6n  I 
couldn't  hardly  keep  from  laughing. 

"  Prithe  nothing,"  said  the  corporal.  "  What  you  got  in 
that  bustle?" 

"  Bustle,"  I  said,  blushing  so  you  could  have  touched 
a  match  to  my  face.  "  Why  speak  of  such  a  thing  in  the 


PUT  DOWN"  THE  REBELLION.  173 

presence  of  a  lady.  I  want  you  to  let  me  go  or  I  shall 
think  you  are  real  mean,  so  now.  Please,  Mr.  Soldier,  let 
me  go/9  and  I  smiled  at  him  and  winked  with  my  left  eye 
in  a  manner  that  ought  to  have  paralyzed  a  marble  statue. 

"0,  what  you  giving  us,"  said  the  vile  man.  "Get 
down  off  that  horse  and  let  me  go  through  you  for  quinine. 
Do  you  hear  ?  " 

I  was  afraid  if  he  helped  me  down  he  would  see  my 
boots  or  pants,  which  would  be  a  give-away.  So  I  gathered 
my  dress  in  my  hands  and  jumped  down  in  pretty  good 
shape.  I  had  sparred  with  the  corporal  several  times  in 
camp,  and  I  knew  I  could  knock  him  out  easy,  and  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  the  first  indignity  he  offered  me  I  would 
just  "lam"  him  one.  It  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from 
pasting  him  in  the  nose,  when  I  first  landed  on  the  ground, 
but  I  had  a  part  to  play,  and  it  would  not  do  to  go  off  half 
cocked.  So  I  looked  sad,  pouted  my  lips,  and  wondered  if 
he  would  kiss  me,  and  feel  the  beard  where  I  had  been 
shaved. 

"  Now,  shuck  yourself/'  said  he. 
i      "Do  what  ?"  I  asked,  with  apparent  alarm. 

"  Peel,"  said  he,  as  he  put  his  hand  on  my  back,  where 
the  bustle  usually  is  found  on  the  female  form. 

"  Sir,"  I  said  with  my  eyes  flashing  fire,  and  my  heart 
throbbing,  and  almost  bursting  with  suppressed  laughter, 
•'  you  are  insolent.  I  am  a  poor  orphan,  unused  to  con 
tact  with  coarse  men.  I  have  been  raised  a  pet,  and  no 
vile  hand  has  ever  been  laid  upon  me  until  you  just  touched 
me.  If  you  touch  me  I  shall  scream.  I  shall  call  for  help. 
What  would  you  do,  you  wicked,  naughty  man." 

"Unbutton,"  said  he  as  he  pointed  to  my  dress  in 


174  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

front.  "  Call  for  help  and  be  darned.  You  are  a  smug 
gler,  and  I  know  it." 

"  0,  my  Ge-od"  said  I,  with  a  stage  accent,  "  has  it 
come  to  this  ?  Am  I  to  be  robbed  of  all  I  hold  dear,  by  a 
common  Yankee  corporal.  Has  a  woman  no  rights  which 
are  to  be  respected  ?  Am  I  to  be  murdered  in  cold  bel-lud, 
with  all  my  sins  upon  my  head.  0,  Mr.  Man,  give  me  a 
moment  to  utter  a  silent  prayer/' 

"  0,  hush"  said  he,  "  and  hold  up  your  hands.  There 
ain't  going  to  be  any  bel-lud.  All  I  want  is  to  go  through 
you  for  quinine." 

"Spare  me,  I  beseech  you,"  I  said,  as  I  held  up  my 
hands,  and  got  in  position  to  knock  him  silly  the  first 
move  he  made.  "  I  am  no  walking  drug  store.  I  am  a 
good  girl.  Around  my  awful  form  I  draw  an  imaginary 
circle.  Step  but  one  foot  within  that  sacred  circle,  and  on 
thy  head  I  launch  the  cu-r-r-r-se  of  Kome,  Georgia." 

"  Let  up  on  this  Shakespeare,  and  get  to  business,"  said 
the  corporal,  as  he  reached  up  to  my  neck  to  unbutton  the 
top  button  of  my  dress.  He  was  looking  at  my  dress,  and 
wondering  what  he  would  find  concealed  within,  when  I 
brought  down  both  fists  and  took  him  with  one  in  each 
eye,  with  a  force  that  would  have  knocked  a  mule  down. 
He  fell  backwards,  and  gave  a  yell  that  could  have  been 
heard  a  mile.  Then  one  of  his  men  started  for  me  and  I 
knocked  him  in  the  ear,  and  he  fell  beside  the  corporal. 
The  other  man  was  going  to  come  for  his  share,  when  the 
officer  who  had  been  stationed  outside  the  lines  rode  up 
with  his  men  and  asked  what  was  the  matter.  The  soldier 
who  was  not  hit  said  I  had  assassinated  the  corporal.  The 
officer  said  that  was  wrong,  and  women  who  would  go 


PUT   mOWN  THE   REBELLION.  175 


around  killing  off  the  Union  army  with  their  fists  ought  to 
be  arrested.  Just  then  the  corporal  raised  up  on  his  elbow 
and  tried  to  open  two  of  the  blackest  eyes  that  ever  were 
seen.  Turning  to  the  officer,  he  said  : 

"  That  woman  is  a  smuggler,  and  she  struck  me  with  a 
brick  house!" 

"  Ancient  female,"  said  the  officer,  looking  at  me  and 
laughing,  "  why  do  you  go  around  like  a  besom  of  de 
struction,  wiping  out  armies,  one  man  at  a  time.  You 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself,  and  you  should  be  muz 
zled." 

"Don't  call  me  a  female,"  said  I,  in  my  natural  hoarse 
voice.  "  That  is  something  that  I  will  not  submit  to." 

The  corporal  looked  up  at  me  with  one  eye,  the  other  be 
ing  almost  closed  from  the  effects  of  the  fall  of  the  brick 
house.  He  looked  as  though  he  smelled  woolen  burning, 
as  the  old  saying  is.  The  officer  said  he  guessed  he  would 
take  us  all  to  headquarters,  and  inquire  into  the  affair. 
The  corporal  said  that  there  was  nothing  to  inquire  into. 
That  this  female  came  along  and  insisted  on  going  outside 
of  the  lines,  and  when  he  asked  her,  in  a  polite  manner, 
to  show  her  pass,  she  struck  him  down  with  a  billy,  or 
some  weapon  she  had  concealed  about  her  person. 

"  You  are  not  much  of  a  liar,  either,"  said  I,  jumping 
on  to  my  horse  astraddle,  like  a  man. 

The  corporal  looked  at  me  as  though  he  would  sink, 
but  he  maintained  that  he  had  done  nothing  that  should 
offend  the  most  fastidious  female.  The  corporal  and  his 
men  mounted,  and  we  all  started  for  headquarters.  I  rode  be 
side  the  officer,  and  the  corporal  was  right  behind  me.  After 
we  had  got  started  I  pulled  out  my  pipe,  filled  it,  lit  a 


176  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

match  as  soldiers  usually  do,  though,  it  was  quite  unhandy^ 
and  began  to  smoke.  As  the  tobacco  smoke  rolled  out 
under  my  veil,  from  the  alleged  rosebud  mouth,  the  scene 
was  one  that  the  corporal  and  the  most  of  the  men  had 
never  thought  of,  though  the  officer  was  "on"  all  right 
enough.  The  corporal  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes,  or 
one  eye,  for  the  other  one  had  gone  closed.  I  was  a  fine 
enough  looking  female  as  we  rode  through  the  regiment, 
except  the  pipe,  which  I  puffed  along  just  as  though  I  had 
no  dress  on.  As  we  rode  up  to  the  colonel's  tent,  it  was 
noised  around  that  a  scout  had  captured  a  daring  female 
rebel,  and  she  had  almost  killed  a  corporal,  and  the  whole 
regiment  gathered  around  the  coloneFs  tent. 

"What  is  the  trouble,  corporal?"  asked  the  colonel  of 
my  black-eyed  friend. 

"  Well  this  woman  wanted  to  go  outside,  and  when  I 
objected,  she  knocked  me  down  with  a  rail  off  a  fence." 

"And  you  offered  her  no  indignity?"  the  colonel 
asked. 

"Not  in  tho  least,"  said  the  corporal. 

Then  the  colonel  asked  me  to  tell  my  story,  which  I 
did.  The  corporal  said  it  was  a  lie,  but  the  other  man, 
whom  I  did  not  hit,  said  I  was  right. 

"  Can  you  disrobe,  before  these  soldiers,  withont  getting 
off  your  horse?  "  asked  the  colonel,  looking  at  me. 

I  told  him  I  could  and  he  told  me  to  proceed.  I  pulled 
the  hat  and  hair  off  first  and  appeared  with  my  red  hair 
clipped  short.  Then  I  threw  the  dress  over  my  head,  and 
appeared  in  my  cavalry  pants,  all  dressed,  except  my  jacket 
and  cap,  which  the  colonel  handed  me,  having  brought  it 
from  the  house  where  I  put  on  the  dress.  I  put  on  the 


PELL  TO  THE  GROUND   AND  GAVE  A  YELL  THAT  COULD    HAVE 

MILE. 


PUT  DOWK  THE   REBELLION.  17? 

jacket,  wiped  the  powder  off  my  face,  and  the  corporal 
said: 

(t  It's  that  condemned  raw  recruit." 

All  the  boys  took  in  the  transformation  scene,  and  then 
the  colonel  told  them  that  he  wanted  this  to  be  a  lesson  to 
all  of  them,  to  let  all  women  ivho  came  to  the  picket  posts, 
or  anywhere,  who  had  passes,  alone,  and  not  think  because 
one  woman  had  been  caught  smuggling,  that  all  women 
were  smugglers.  In  fact  he  wanted  every  soldier  to  mind 
his  own  business.  Then  he  dismissed  us,  and  we  went  to 
our  quarters.  On  the  way,  the  one-eyed  corporal  touched 
me  on  tho  arm,  and  he  said: 

"  Old  man,  you  played  it  fine  on  me,  but  I  will  get  even 
with  you  yet." 


178  HOW   1'liIVATE   GEOliGE   W.  PECK 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MILITARY  ATTIRE  —  MY  SUIT  OF  GOVERNMENT  CLOTHES — THE 
MEMORY  OP  THEM  SADDENS  ME  STILL  —  THE  DREADFUL 
MARCH  —  THE  ADJUTANT  APPOINTS  ME  TO  MAKE  OUT  A 
MONTHLY  REPORT  —  THE  REPORT  Is  AN  ASTONISHING  ONE. 

About  this  time  I  received  the  greatest  shock  of  the 
whole  war.  I  had  prided  myself  upon  my  uniform  that  I 
brought  from  home,  which  was  made  by  a  tailor,  and  fit 
me  first  rate.  It  was  of  as  good  cloth  and  as  well  made  as 
the  uniforms  of  any  of  the  officers,  and  I  was  not  ashamed 
to  go  out  with  a  party  of  officers  on  a  little  evening  "  tear/' 
because  there  was  nothing  about  my  uniform  to  distinguish 
me  from  an  officer,  except  the  shoulder-straps,  and  many 
officers  did  not  wear  shoulder-straps  at  all,  except  on  dress 
parade  or  inspection.  I  took  great  pleasure  in  riding 
around  town,  wherever  the  regiment  was  located,  looking 
wise,  and  posing  as  an  officer.  But  the  time  came  when 
my  uniform,  which  came  with  me  as  a  recruit,  became 
seedy,  and  badly  worn,  and  it  was  necessary  to  discard  it, 
and  draw  some  clothing  of  the  quartermaster.  That  is  a 
trying  time  for  a  recruit.  One  day  it  was  announced  that 
the  quartermaster  sergeant  had  received  a  quantity  of 
clothing,  and  the  men  were  ordered  to  go  and  draw  coats, 
pants,  hats,  shoes,  overcoats,  and  underclothing,  as  winter 
was  coming  on,  and  the  regiment  was  liable  to  move  at  any 
time.  Something  happened  that  I  was  unable  to  be  pres 
ent  the  first  forenoon  that  clothing  was  issued,  and,  when 
I  did  call  upon  the  quariermaster^ergeant,  there  was  only 


PUT   DOWN  THE   KEBELLIOtf.  179 

two  or  three  suits  left,  and  they  had  been  tumbled  over 
till  they  looked  bad.  I  can  remember  now  how  my  heart 
sank  within  me,  as  I  picked  up  a  pair  of  pants  that  was 
left.  They  were  evidently  cut  out  with  a  buzz-saw,  and 
were  made  for  a  man  that  weighed  three  hundred.  I  held 
them  up  in  installments,  and  looked  at  them.  Holding 
them  by  the  top,  as  high  as  I  could,  and  the  bottom  of  the 
legs  of  the  pants  laid  on  the  ground.  The  sergeant 
charged  the  pants  to  my  account,  and  then  handed  me  a 
jacket,  a  small  one,  evidently  made  for  a  hump-backed 
dwarf.  The  jacket  was  covered  with  yellow  braid.  0,  so 
yellow,  that  it  made  me  sick.  The  jacket  was  charged  to 
me,  also.  Then  he  handed  me  some  undershirts  and 
drawers,  so  coarse  and  rough  that  it  seemed  to  me  they 
must  have  been  made  of  rope,  and  lined  with  sand-paper. 
Then  came  an  overcoat,  big  enough  for  an  equestrian 
statue  of  George  Washington,  with  a  cape  on  it  as  big  as  a 
wall  tent.  The  hat  I  drew  was  a  stiff,  cheap,  shoddy  hat, 
is  high  as  a  tin  camp  kettle,  which  was  to  take  the  place 
of  my  nobby,  soft  felt  hat  that  I  had  paid  five  dollars  of 
my  bounty  money  for.  The  hat  was  four  sizes  too  large 
for  me.  Then  I  took  the  last  pair  of  army  shoes  there 
was,  and  they  weighed  as  much  as  a  pair  of  anvils,  and  had 
raw-hide  strings  to  fasten  them  with.  Has  any  old  soldier 
of  the  army  ever  forgotten  the  clothing  that  he  drew  from 
the  quartermaster?  These  inverted  pots  for  hats,  the  same 
size  all  the  way  up,  and  the  shoes  that  seemed  to  be  made 
of  sole  leather,  and  which  scraped  the  skin  off  the  ankles. 
0,  if  this  government  ever  does  go  to  Gehenna,  as  some 
people  contend  it  will,  sometime,  it  will  be  as  a  penalty  for 
issuing  such  ill-fitting  shoddy  clothing  to  its  brave  soldiers, 


180  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

who  never  did  the  government  any  harm.  I  carried  the 
lot  of  clothing  to  my  tent,  feeling  sick  and  faint.  The 
idea  of  wearing  them  among  folks  was  almost  more  than  I 
could  bear  to  think  of.  I  laid  them  on  my  bunk,  and 
looked  at  them,  and  "died  right  there."  That  hat  was  of 
a  style  older  than  Methuselah.  0, 1  could  have  stood  it,  all 
but  the  hat,  and  pants,  and  shoes,  but  they  killed  me. 
While  I  was  looking  at  the  lay-out,  and  trying  to  make 
myself  believe  that  my  old  clothes  that  I  brought  with  me 
were  good  enough  to  last  till  the  war  was  over,  though  the 
seat  of  the  pants,  and  the  knees,  and  the  sleeves  of  the 
coat  were  nearly  gone,  an  orderly  came  through  the  com 
pany  and  said  the  regiment  would  have  a  dismounted  dress 
parade  at  sundown,  and  every  man  must  wear  his  new 
clothes.  Ye  gods!  that  was  too  much!  If  I  could  have 
had  a  week  or  ten  days  to  get  used  to  those  new  clothes, 
one  article  at  a  time,  I  could  have  stood  it,  but  to  be  com 
pelled  to  put  the  pants,  and  jacket,  shoes  and  hat  on  all  at 
once,  was  horrible  to  think  of,  and  if  I  had  not  known 
that  a  deserter  was  always  caught,  and  punished,  I  would 
have  deserted.  But  the  clothes  must  be  put  on,  and  I 
must  go  out  into  the  world  a  spectacle  to  behold.  Believ 
ing  that  it  is  better  to  face  the  worst,  and  have  it  over,  I 
put  on  the  pants  first.  If  I  could  ever  meet  the  army  con 
tractor  who  furnished  those  pants  to  a  government  almost 
in  the  throes  of  dissolution,  I  would  kill  him  as  I  would 
an  enemy  of  the  human  race.  There  was  room  enough  in 
those  pants  for  a  man  and  a  horse.  Yes,  and  a  bale  of 
hay.  There  were  no  suspenders  furnished  to  the  men,  and 
how  to  keep  the  pants  from  falling  from  grace  was  a  ques 
tion,  but  I  got  a  piece  of  tent  rope,  cut  a  hole  in  the  waist 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  181 

band,  and  run  the  rope  around  inside,  and  tied  it  around 
my  waist,  puckering  the  top  of  the  pants  at  proper  inter 
vals. 

When  I  think  of  those  pants  now,  after  twenty-two 
years,  I  wonder  that  I  was  not  irretrievably  lost  in  them. 
I  would  have  been  lost  if  I  had  not  stuck  out  of  the  top. 
But  when  I  looked  at  the  bottoms  of  the  pants  I  found  at 
least  a  foot  too  much.  If  I  had  tied  the  rope  around  under 
my  arms,  or  buttoned  them  to  my  collar  button,  they 
would  have  been  too  long  at  the  bottom.  I  finally  rolled 
them  up  at  the  bottom,  and  they  rolled  clear  up  above  my 
knees.  But  how  they  did  bag  around  my  body.  There 
was  cloth  enough  to  spare  to  have  made  a  whole  uniform 
for  the  largest  man  in  the  regiment.  At  that  time  I  was  a 
slim  fellow,  that  weighed  less  than  125  pounds,  and  there 
is  no  doubt  I  got  the  largest  pair  of  pants  that  was  issued 
in  the  whole  Union  army.  I  only  had  a  small  round  mir 
ror  in  my  tent,  so  I  could  not  see  how  awfully  I  looked, 
only  in  installments,  but  to  a  sensitive  young  man  who  had 
always  dressed  well,  any  one  can  see  how  a  pair  of  such 
pants  would  harrow  up  his  soul.  If  the  pants  were  too 
large,  you  ought  to  have  seen  the  jacket.  The  contractor 
who  made  the  clothes  evidently  took  the  measure  of  a 
monkey  to  make  that  jacket.  It  was  so  small  that  I  could 
hardly  get  it  on .  The  sleeves  were  so  tight  that  the  vac 
cination  marks  on  my  arm  must  have  shown  plainly.  The 
sleeves  were  too  short,  and  my  hands  and  half  of  my  fore 
arm  hung  outside.  The  body  was  so  tight  that  I  had  to 
use  a  monkey-wrench  to  button  it,  and  then  I  couldn't 
breathe  without  unbuttoning  one  button.  It  was  so  tight 
that  my  ribs  showed  so  plain  they  could  be  counted. 


182  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

I  stuffed  some  pieces  of  grain  sack  in  the  shoes,  and  got 
them  on,  and  tied  them,  put  on  that  awful  hat,  the  bugle 
sounded  to  "fall  in,"  and  I  "fell  out"  of  my  tent  towards 
the  place  of  assembly,  with  my  carbine.  If  we  had  been 
going  out  mounted,  I  could  have  managed  to  hide  some  of 
the  pants  around  the  saddle,  if  I  could  have  got  my  shoe 
over  the  horse's  back,  but  to  walk  out  among  men,  stub 
bing  my  shoes  against  each  other,  and  interfering  and 
knocking  my  ankles  off,  was  pretty  hard.  The  company 
was  about  formed  when  I  fell  out  of  my  tent,  and  when 
the  men  saw  me  they  snickered  right  out.  I  have  heard  a 
great  many  noises  in  my  time  that  took  the  life  out  of  me. 
The  first  shell  that  I  heard  whistle  through  the  air,  and 
shriek,  and  explode,  caused  my  hair  to  raise,  and  I  was 
cold  all  up  and  down  my  spine.  The  first  flock  of  minnie 
bullets  that  sang  about  my  vicinity  caused  my  flesh  to 
creep  and  my  heart's  blood  to  stand  still.  Once  I  was 
near  a  saw  mill  when  the  boiler  exploded,  and  as  the  pieces 
of  boiler  began  to  rain  around  me,  I  felt  how  weak  and  in 
significant  a  small,  red-headed,  freckled-faced  man  is.  Once 
I  heard  a  girl  say  "no,"  when  I  had  asked  her  a  civil  ques 
tion,  and  I  was  so  pale  and  weak  that  I  could  hardly  replj 
that  I  didn't  care  a  continental  whether  she  married  me  or 
not,  but  I  never  felt  quite  so  weak,  and  powerless,  and 
ashamed,  and  desperate  as  I  did  when  I  came  out,  falling 
over  myself  and  the  men  of  my  company  snickered  at  my 
appearance.  The  captain  held  his  hand  over  his  face  and 
laughed.  I  fell  in  at  the  left  of  my  company,  and  the  cap 
tain  went  to  the  right  and  looked  down  the  line,  and  see 
ing  my  pants  out  in  front  about  a  foot,  he  ordered  me  to 
stand  back.  I  stood  back,  and  he  looked  at  the  rear  of  the 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  183 

line,  and  I  stuck  out  worse  behind,  and  he  made  me  move 
up.  Finally  he  came  down  to  where  I  was  and  told  me  to 
throw  out  my  chest.  I  tried  to  throw  it  out,  and  busted  a 
button  off,  but  the  pressure  was  too  great,  and  my  chest 
went  back.  Finally  the  captain  told  me  I  could  go  to 
the  right  of  the  company  and  act  as  orderly  sergeant  on 
dress  parade.  He  said  as  our  company  was  on  the  right 
of  the  regiment,  they  could  dress  on  my  pants,  and  I 
wouldn't  be  noticed. 

What  I  ought  to  have  done,  was  to  have  committed 
suicide  right  there,  but  I  went  to  the  right,  trying  to  look 
innocent,  and  we  moved  off  to  the  field  for  dress  parade. 
Everything  went  off  well  enough,  except  that  in  coming  to 
a  (<  carry  arms,''  with  my  carbine,  from  a  present,  the 
muzzle  of  the  carbine  knocked  off  my  stiff  hat,  and  the 
stock  of  the  carbine  went  into  the  pocket  of  my  pants  and 
run  clear  down  my  leg,  before  I  could  rescue  it.  A  file 
closer  behind  me  picked  up  my  hat  and  put  it  on  me,  with 
the  yellow  cord  tassels  in  front,  and  before  I  could  fix  it, 
the  order  came,  "  First  sergeants  to  the  front  and  center, 
march."  Those  who  are  familiar  with  military  matters, 
know  that  at  dress  parade  the  first  sergeants  march  a  few 
paces  to  the  front,  then  turn  and  march  to  the  center  of 
the  regiment,  turn  and  face  the  adjutant,  and  each  salutes 

that  officer  in  turn,  and  reports,  "  Co. ,  all  present  or 

accounted  for."  That  was  the  hardest  march  I  ever  had  in 
all  of  my  army  experience.  I  knew  that  every  eye  of  every 
soldier  in  the  six  companies  at  the  right  of  the  regiment, 
would  be  on  my  pants,  and  the  officers  would  laugh  at  me, 
and  the  several  hundred  ladies  and  gentlemen  from  town, 
who  were  back  of  the  colonel,  witnessing  the  dress  parade, 
u 


184  HOW  PEIVATE  GEORGE   W.  PECK 

would  laugh,  too.  A  man  can  face  death  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duty,  better  than  he  can  face  the  laughter  of  a  thou 
sand  people.  I  seemed  to  be  the  only  soldier  in  the  whole 
regiment  who  had  not  got  a  pretty  good  fit  in  drawing  his 
new  clothes,  but  I  was  a  spectacle.  As  I  marched  to  the 
front,  with  the  other  eleven  first  sergeants,  and  stood  still 
for  them  to  dress  on  me,  I  felt  as  though  the  piece  of  tent 
rope  with  which  I  had  fastened  my  large  pants  up,  was  be 
coming  untied,  and  I  began  to  perspire.  What  would  be 
come  of  me  if  that  rope  should  become  untied?  If  that 
rope  gave  way,  it  seemed  to  me  it  would  break  up  the 
whole  army,  stampede  the  visitors,  and  cause  me  to  be 
court-martialed  for  conduct  unbecoming  any  white  man. 
I  made  up  my  mind  if  the  worst  came,  I  would  drop  my 
carbine  and  grab  the  pants  with  both  hands,  and  save  the 
day.  At  the  command,  "right  and  left  face,"  I  turned  to 
the  left,  and  I  could  feel  the  pants  begin  to  droop,  as  it 
were,  so  I  took  hold  of  the  top  of  them  with  my  left  hand, 
and  at  the  command,  "march,"  1  started  for  the  center.  I 
had  got  almost  past  my  own  company,  and  there  had  been 
no  general  laugh,  but  when  I  passed  an  Irishman,  named 
Mulcahy,  I  heard  him  whisper  out  loud  to  the  man  next  to 
him,  "Howly  Jasus,  Ink  at  the  pants."  Then  there  was  a 
snicker  all  through  the  company,  which  was  taken  up  by 
the  next,  and  by  the  time  I  got  to  the  center,  and  " front 
faced,"  a  half  of  the  regiment  were  laughing,  and  the 
officers  were  scolding  the  men  and  whispering  to  them  to 
shut  up.  Just  then  I  felt  that  the  one  hand  that  was  try 
ing  to  hold  the  pants  up,  was  never  going  to  do  the  work 
in  the  world,  so  I  dropped  my  carbine  behind  me,  said, 
:*Co.  E,  all  present  or  accounted  for,"  and  stood  there  like 


I 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  185 

a  stoughton  bottle,  holding  the  waist-band  of  those  pants 
with  both  hands,  as  pale  as  a  ghost.  I  could  see  that  the 
adjutant  and  the  colonel  and  two  majors,  were  laughing, 
and  many  of  the  visitors  were  trying  to  keep  from  laugh 
ing.  I  think  I  lived  seventy  years  in  five  minutes,  while 
the  other  eleven  orderlies  were  reporting,  and  when  the 
order  came  to  return  to  our  posts,  I  whispered  to  the  next 
orderly  to  me,  and  told  him  if  he  would  pick  up  my  car 
bine  and  bring  it  along,  I  would  die  for  him,  and  he  picked 
it  up.  The  dress  parade  was  soon  finished,  but  instead  of 
marching  the  companies  back  to  their  quarters,  they  were 
ordered  to  break  ranks  on  the  parade  ground,  and  for  an 
hour  I  was  surrounded  with  officers  and  men,  who  laughed 
at  me  till  I  thought  I  would  die. 

The  colonel  and  adjutant  finally  told  me  that  it  was  a 
put  up  job  on  me,  to  make  a  little  fun  for  the  boys.  They 
said  I  had  often  had  fun  at  the  expense  of  the  other  boys 
and  they  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  stand  a  joke  on  myself, 
and  they  admitted  that  I  had  done  it  well.  If  I  had  known 
it  was  a  joke,  I  could  have  lived  through  it  better.  The 
adjutant  said  he  had  got  a  little  work  for  me  that  evening, 
and  the  next  morning  L  could  take  my  clothes  down  town 
to  the  post  quartermaster,  and  exchange  them  for  a  suit 
that  would  fit  me.  I  went  to  his  tent,  and  he  showed  me 
a  lot  of  company  reports,  and  wanted  me  to  make  out  a 
consolidated  monthly  report,  for  the  assistant  adjutant 
general  of  the  brigade.  I  had  done  some  work  for  him 
before,  and  he  left  a  blank  signed  by  himself  and  colonel, 
and  told  me  to  make  out  a  report  and  send  it  to  the  brig 
ade  headquarters,  as  he  was  going  down  town  with  a  party 
of  officers.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  get  even 


186  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

with  the  adjutant  and  the  colonel,  so  I  took  a  pen  and 
filled  out  the  blank.  My  idea  was  to  put  all  the  figures  in 
the  wrong  column,  which  I  did,  and  sent  it  to  the  brigade 
headquarters.  The  next  morning  I  went  down  town  with 
the  quartermaster,  and  got  a  suit  of  clothes  to  fit  me,  and 
on  the  way  back  to  camp  I  passed  brigade  headquarters, 
when  I  saw  our  adjutant  looking  quite  dejected.  He 
called  to  me  and  said  he  had  been  summoned  to  brigade 
headquarters  to  explain  some  inaccuracies  in  the  monthly 
report  sent  in  the  night  before,  and  he  wanted  me  to  stay 
and  see  what  was  the  trouble,  but  I  acted  as  though  if 
there  was  a  mistake,  it  was  an  error  of  the  head  rather 
than  of  the  feet.  Pretty  soon  the  old  brigade  adjutant, 
who  was  a  strict  diciplinarian,  and  a  man  who  never  heard 
of  a  joke,  came  in  from  the  generaFs  tent,  with  his  brow 
corrugated.  They  had  evidently  been  brooding  over  the 
report. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  adjutant,"  said  he,  with  a  pre 
occupied  look,  "  but  in  your  report  I  observe  that  your 
regiment  contains  forty-three  enlisted  men,  and  nine  hun 
dred  and  twenty-six  company  cooks.  This  seems  to  me 
improbable,  and  the  general  cannot  seem  to  understand 
it." 

The  adjutant  turned  red  in  the  face,  and  was  about  to 
stammer  out  something,  when  the  adjutant  general  con 
tinued  : 

"  Again,  we  observe  that  your  quartermaster  has  on 
hand  nine  hundred  bales  of  condition  powders,  which  is 
placed  in  your  report  as  rations  for  the  men,  that  you  only 
have  eleven  horses  in  your  regiment  fit  for  duty,  that  you 
have  the  same  number  of  men,  while  the  commissioned 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  18? 

officers. foot  up  at  nine  hundred  and  twenty-six.  Of  your 
sick  men  there  seems  to  be  plenty,  some  eight  hundred, 
which  would  indicate  an  epidemic,  of  which  these  head 
quarters  had  not  been  informed  previously.  In  the  column 
headed  "officers  detailed  on  other  duty  "  I  find  four  six- 
mule  teams,"  and  one  "  spike  team  of  five  mules."  In  the 
column  ( '  officers  absent  without  leave  "  I  find  the  entry 
"  all  gone  off  on  a  drunk."  This,  sir,  is  the  most  incon 
gruous  report  that  has  ever  been  received  at  these  head 
quarters,  from  a  reputably  sober  officer.  Can  this  affair 
be  satisfactorily  explained,  at  once,  or  would  you  prefer  to 
explain  it  to  a  court-martial  ?  " 

"  Captain,"  said  the  adjutant  in  distress,  and  perspiring 
freely,  "  my  clerk  has  made  a  mistake,  and  placed  a  piece 
of  waste  paper  that  has  been  scribbled  on,  in  the  envelope, 
instead  of  the  regular  report.  Let  me  take  it,  and  I  will 
send  the  proper  report  to  you  in  ten  minutes." 

The  adjutant  general  handed  over  my  report,  after  ask 
ing  how  it  happened  that  the  signature  of  the  colonel  and 
adjutant  was  on  the  ridiculous  report,  and  the  adjutant 
and  the  red-headed  recruit  went  out,  mounted  and  rode 
away.  On  the  way  the  adjutant  said,  ' '  I  ought  to  kill  you 
on  the  spot.  But  I  wont.  You  have  only  retaliated  on  us 
for  playing  them  pants  on  you.  I  hate  a  man  that  can't 
take  a  joke." 

Then  we  made  out  a  new  report,  and  I  took  it  to  head 
quarters,  and  all  was  well.  But  the  adjutant  was  not  as 
kjtteny  with  his  jokes  on  the  other  fellows  for  many 
moons. 


188  HOW   PEIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

MY  EXPERIENCE  AS  A  SICK  MAN  —  JIM  THINKS  I  HAVE  YELI^OW 
FEVER — WHAT  I  SUFFERED  —  A  REBEL  ANGEL — I  AM  SENT 
TO  THE  HOSPITAL. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  never  been  sick  a  day  in  my  life, 
that  is,  sick  enough  to  ache  and  groan  and  grunt,  and  lay 
in  bed.  At  home  I  had  occasionally  had  a  cold,  and  I  was 
put  to  bed  at  night,  after  drinking  a  quart  of  ginger  tea, 
and  covered  up  with  blankets  in  a  warm  room,  and  I  was 
fussed  over  by  loving  hands  until  I  got  to  sleep,  and  in 
the  morning  I  would  wake  up  as  fresh  as  a  daisy,  with  my 
cold  all  gone.  Once  or  twice  at  home  I  had  a  bilious  attack 
that  lasted  me  almost  twenty-four  hours;  but  the  old  family 
doctor  fired  blue  pills  down  me,  and  I  came  under  the  wire 
an  easy  winner.  I  did  have  the  mumps  and  the  measles, 
of  course  before  enlisting,  but  the  loving  care  I  was  given 
brought  me  out  all  right,  and  I  looked  upon  those  little 
sicknesses  as  a  sort  of  luxury.  The  people  at  home  would 
do  everything  to  make  sick  experiences  far  from  bitter 
memories.  It  was  getting  along  towards  Christmas  of  my^ 
first  year  in  the  army,  and  though  it  was  the  Sunny  South 
we  were  in,  I  noticed  that  it  was  pretty  all-fired  cold.  The 
night  rides  were  full  of  fog  and  malaria;  and  one  morning 
I  came  in  from  an  all-night  ride  through  the  woods  and 
swamps,  feeling  pretty  blue.  The  mud  around  my  tent 
was  frozen,  and  there  was  a  little  snow  around  in  spots. 
As  I  laid  down  in  my  bunk  to  take  a  snooze  before  break 
fast,  I  noticed  how  awfully  thin  an  army  blanket  was.  It 


PUT  DOWN  THE   EEBELLIOK.  189 

was  good  enough  for  summer,  but  when  winter  came  the 
blanket  seemed  to  have  lost  its  cunning.  I  was  again 
doing  duty  as  a  private  soldier,  having  learned  that  my 
promotion  to  the  position  of  corporal  was  only  temporary. 
I  had  been  what  is  called  a  "  lance  corporal,"  or  a  brevet 
corporal.  It  seemed  hard,  after  tasting  of  the  sweets  of 
official  position,  to  be  returned  to  the  ranks,  but  I  had  to 
take  the  bitter  with  the  sweet,  and  a  soldier  must  not  kick. 
I  had  never  laid  down  to  sleep  before  without  dropping  off 
into  the  land  of.  dreams  right  away,  but  now,  though  I  was 
tired  enough,  my  eyes  were  wide  open  and  I  felt  strange. 
At  times  I  would  be  so  hot  that  I  would  throw  the  blanket 
off,  and  then  I  would  be  so  cold  that  it  seemed  as  though  I 
would  freeze.  I  had  taken  a  severe  cold  which  had  settled 
everywhere,  and  there  was  not  a  bone  in  my  body  but  what 
ached;  my  lungs  seemed  of  no  use;  I  could  not  take  a  long 
breath  without  a  hacking  cough,  and  I  felt  as  though  I 
should  die.  It  was  then  that  I  thought  of  the  warm  little 
room  at  home  and  the  ginger  tea,  and  the  soaking  of  my 
feet  in  mustard  water  and  wrapping  my  body  in  a  soft 
flannel  blanket,  and  the  kindly  faces  of  my  parents,  my 
sister,  my  wife  —  everybody  that  had  been  kind  to  me.  I 
would  close  my  eyes  and  imagine  I  could  see  them  all,  and 
open  my  eyes  and  see  my  cold  little  tent  and  shiver  as  I 
thought  of  being  sick  away  from  home.  I  laid  for  an 
hour  wishing  I  was  home  again;  and  while  alone  there  I 
made  up  my  mind  I  would  write  home  and  warn  all  the 
boys  I  knew  against  enlisting.  The  thought  that  I  should 
die  there  alone  was  too  much,  and  I  was  about  to  yell  for 
help  when  my  tent  mate,  who  had  been  on  a  scout,  came 
in.  He  was  a  big  green  Yankee,  who  had  a  heart  in  him 


190  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

as  big  as  a  water  pail,  but  he  wasn't  much  of  a  nurse.  He 
came  in  nearly  frozen,  threw  his  saddle  down  in  a  corner, 
took  out  a  hard  tack  and  began  to  chew  it,  occasionally 
taking  a  drink  of  water  out  of  a  canteen.  That  was  his 
breakfast. 

"  Well,  Fve  got  just  about  enough  of  war,"  said  he,  as 
he  picked  his  teeth  with  a  splinter  off  his  bunk,  and  filled 
his  pipe  and  lit  it.  "  They  can't  wind  up  this  business 
any  too  soon  to  suit  the  old  man.  War  in  the  summer  is  a 
picnic,  but  in  winter  it  is  wearin'  on  the  soldier." 

Heretofore  I  had  enjoyed  tobacco  smoke  very  much, 
both  from  my  own  pipe  and  Jim's,  but  when  he  blew  out 
the  first  whiff  of  smoke  it  went  to  my  head  and  stomach 
and  all  up  and  down  me,  and  I  yelled,  in  a  hoarse,  pneu 
monia  sort  of  voice: 

"Jim,  for  God's  sake  don't  smoke.  I  am  at  death's 
door,  and  I  don't  want  to  smell  of  tobacco  smoke  when  St. 
Peter  opens  the  gate." 

"What,  pard,  you  ain't  sick,"  said  Jim,  putting  his 
pipe  outside  of  the  tent,  and  coming  to  me  and  putting  his 
great  big  hand  on  my  forehead,  as  tender  as  a  woman. 
"  Great  heavens!  you  have  got  the  yellow  fever.  You 
won't  live  an  hour." 

That  was  where  Jim  failed  as  a  nurse.  He  made  things 
out  worse  than  they  were.  He,  poor  old  fellow,  thought 
it  was  sympathy,  and  if  I  had  let  him  go  on  he  would  have 
had  me  dead  before  night.  I  told  him  I  was  all  right. 
All  I  had  was  a  severe  cold,  on  my  lungs,  and  pneumonia, 
and  rheumatism,  and  chills  and  fever,  and  a  few  such 
things,  but  I  would  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two.  I  wanted 
to  encourage  Jim  to  think  I  was  not  very  bad  off,  but  he 


I 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  191 

wouldn't  have  it.  He  insisted  that  I  had  typhoid  fever, 
and  glanders,  and  cholera.  He  went  right  out  of  the  tent 
and  called  in  the  first  man  he  met,  who  proved  to  be  the 
horse  doctor.  The  horse  doctor  was  a  friend  of  mine,  and 
a  mighty  good  fellow,  but  I  had  never  meditated  having 
him  called  in  to  doctor  me.  However,  he  felt  of  my  fore 
leg,  looked  at  my  eyes,  rubbed  the  hair  the  wrong  way  on 
my  head,  and  told  Jim  to  bleed  me  in  the  mouth,  and 
blanket  me,  and  give  me  a  bran  mash,  and  rub  some  mus 
tang  liniment  on  my  chest  and  back.  I  didn't  want  to 
hurt  the  horse  doctor's  feelings  by  going  back  on  his  direc 
tions,  but  I  told  him  I  only  wanted  to  soak  my  feet  in 
mustard  water,  and  take  some  ginger  tea.  He  said  all 
right,  if  I  knew  more  about  it  than  he  did,  and  then  he 
said  he  would  skirmish  around  for  some  ginger,  while  Jim 
raised  the  mustard,  and  they  both  went  out  and  left  me 
alone.  It  seemed  an  age  before  anybody  come,  and  I 
thought  of  home  all  the  time,  and  of  the  folks  who  would 
know  just  what  to  do.  if  I  was  there.  Pretty  soon  Jim 
came  in  with  a  camp  kettle  half  full  of  hot  water,  and  a 
bottle  of  French  mixed  mustard  which  he  had  bought  of 
the  sutler.  I  told  him  I  wanted  plain  ground  mustard, 
but  he  said  there  wasn't  any  to  be  found,  and  French 
mustard  was  the  best  he  could  do.  We  tried  to  dissolve  it 
in  the  water,  but  it  wouldn't  work,  and  finally  Jim  sug 
gested  that  he  take  a  mustard  spoon  and  plaster  the  French 
mustard  all  over  my  feet,  and  then  put  them  to  soak  that 
way.  He  said  that  prepared  mustard  was  the  finest  kind 
for  pigs  feet  and  sausage,  and  he  didn't  know  why  it  was 
not  all  right  to  soak  feet  in.  So  he  plastered  it  on  and  I 
proceeded  to  soak  my  feet.  I  presume  it  was  the  most  un- 


192  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.   PECK 

successful  case  of  soaking  feet  on  record.  The  old  camp 
kettle  was  greasy,  and  when  the  hot  water  and  French 
mustard  began  to  get  in  their  work  on  the  kettle,  the  odor 
was  sickening,  and  I  do  not  think  I  was  improved  at  all  in 
my  condition.  I  told  Jim  I  guessed  I  would  lay  down  and 
wait  for  the  ginger  tea.  Pretty  soon  the  horse  doctor  came 
in  with  a  tin  cup  full  of  hot  ginger  tea.  I  took  one  swallow 
of  it  and  I  thought  I  had  swallowed  a  blacksmith's  forge, 
with  a  coal  fire  in  it.  I  gasped  and  tried  to  yell  murder. 
The  horse  doctor  explained  that  he  couldn't  get  any  ginger, 
so  he  had  taken  cayenne  pepper,  which,  he  added,  could 
knock  the  socks  off  of  ginger  any  day  in  the  week.  I  felt 
like  murdering  the  horse  doctor,  and  I  felt  a  little  hard  at 
Jim  for  playing  French  mustard  on  me,  but  when  I  come 
to  reflect,  I  could  see  that  they  had  done  the  best  they 
could,  and  I  thanked  them,  and  told  them  to  leave  me 
alone  and  I  would  go  to  sleep.  They  went  out  of  the  tent 
and  I  could  hear  them  speculating  on  my  case.  Jim  said 
he  knew  I  had  diabetes,  and  lung  fever  combined,  with 
sciatic  rheumatism,  and  brain  fever,  and  if  I  lived  till 
morning  the  horse  doctor  could  take  it  out  of  his  wages. 
The  horse  doctor  admitted  that  my  case  had  a  hopeless 
look,  but  he  once  had  a  patient,  a  bay  horse,  sixteen  hands 
high,  and  as  fine  a  saddle  horse  as  a  man  ever  threw  a  leg 
over,  that  was  troubled  exactly  tne  same  as  I  was.  He 
blistered  his  chest,  gave  him  a  table-spoonful  of  condition 
powders  three  times  a  day  in  a  bran  mash,  took  off  his 
shoes  and  turned  him  out  to  grass,  and  in  a  week  he  sold 
him  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  I  laid  there  and 
tried  to  go  to  sleep  listening  to  that  talk.  Then,  some  of 
the  boys  who  had  heard  that  I  was  sick,  came  along  and 


1 


PUT  DOWN  THE  EEBELLION.  193 

inquired  how  I  was,  and  I  listened  to  the  remarks  they 
made.  One  of  them  wanted  to  go  and  get  some  burdock 
leaves,  and  pound  them  into  a  pulp,  and  bind  them  on  me 
for  a  poultice.  He  said  he  had  an  aunt  in  Wisconsin  who 
had  a  milk  sickness,  and  her  left  leg  swelled  up  as  big  as  a 
post,  and  the  doctors  tried  everything,  and  charged  her 
over  two  hundred  dollars,  and  never  did  her  any  good,  and 
one  day  an  Indian  doctor  came  along  and  picked  some 
burdock  leaves  and  fixed  a  poultice  for  her,  and  in  a  week 
she  went  to  a  hop-picker's  dance,  and  was  as  kitteny  as 
anybody,  and  the  Indian  doctor  only  charged  her  a  quarter. 
Jim  was  for  going  out  for  burdock  Jeaves  at  once,  for 
me,  but  the  horse  doctor  told  him  I  didn't  have  no  milk 
sickness.  He  said  all  the  milk  soldiers  got  was  condensed 
milk,  and  mighty  little  of  that,  and  he  would  defy  the 
world  to  show  that  a  man  could  get  milk  sickness  on  con 
densed  milk.  That  seemed  to  settle  the  burdock  remedy, 
and  they  went  to  inquiring  of  Jim  if  he  knew  where  my 
folks  lived,  so  he  could  notify  them,  in  case  I  was  not 
there  in  the  morning.  Jim  couldn't  remember  whether  it 
was  Atchison,  Kan.,  or  Fort  Atkinson,  Wis.,  but  he  said 
he  would  go  and  ask  me,  while  I  was  alive,  so  there  would 
be  no  mistake,  and  the  poor  fellow,  meaning  as  well  as  any 
man  ever  did,  came  in  and  asked  for  the  address  of  my 
father,  saying  it  was  of  no  account,  particularly,  only  he 
wanted  to  know.  I  gave  him  the  address,  and  then  he 
asked  me  if  he  shouldn't  get  me  something  to  eat.  I  told 
him  I  couldn't  eat  anything  to  save  me.  He  offered  to  fry 
me  some  bacon,  and  make  me  a  cup  of  coffee,  but  the 
thought  of  bacon  and  coffee  made  me  wild.  I  told  him  if 
he  could  make  me  a  nice  cup  of  green  tea,  and  some  milk 


194  HOW  PIUVATE  GEOKGE  W.  f>ECK 

toast,  or  poach  me  an  egg  and  place  it  on  a  piece  of  nice 
buttered  toast,  and  give  me  a  little  currant  jelly,  I  thought 
I  could  swallow  a  mouthful.  Jim's  eyes  stuck  out  when  I 
gave  my  order,  which  I  had  done  while  thinking  of  home, 
and  a  tear  rolled  down  his  cheek,  and  he  went  out  of  the 
tent,  saying,  "All  right,  pard."  I  saw  him  tap  his  fore 
head  with  his  finger,  point  his  thumb  toward  the  tent,  and 
say  to  the  boys  outside: 

" He's  got  'em!  Head  all  wrong!  Wants  me  to  make 
him  milk  toast,  poached  eggs,  green  tea,  and  currant  jelly. 
And  I  offered  him  bacon.  Sow  belly  for  a  sick  man !  There 
isn't  a  loaf  of  bread  in  camp.  Not  an  egg  within  five 
miles.  And  milk!  currant  jelly!  Why,  he  might  as  well 
ask  for  Delmonico's  bill  of  farel  But  we  have  got  to  get 
'em.  I  told  him  he  should  have  'em,  and,  by  mighty!  he 
shall.  Here,  Mr.  Horse-doctor,  you  stay  and  watch  him, 
and  I  and  Company  D  here  will  saddle  up  and  go  out  on 
the  road  to  a  plantation,  and  raid  it  for  delicacies." 

"You  bet  your  life,"  says  the  Company  "D  "  man,  and 
pretty  soon  I  heard  a  couple  of  saddles  thrown  on  two 
horses,  and  then  there  was  a  clatter  of  horses'  feet  on  the 
frozen  ground.  I  have  thought  of  it  since  a  good  many 
times,  and  have  concluded  that  I  must  have  dropped 
asleep.  Any  way,  it  didn't  seem  more  than  five  minutes 
before  the  tent  flap  opened  and  Jim  came  in. 

"Come,  straighten  out  here,  now,  you  red-headed 
corpse,  and  try  that  toast,"  said  he,  as  he  came  in  with  a 
piece  of  hard-tack  box  for  a  tray,  and  on  it  was  a  nice 
china  plate,  and  a  cup  and  saucer,  an  egg  on  toast,  and  a 
little  pitcher  of  milk,  and  some  jelly. 

"Jim,"  I  said,  tasting  nf  the  tea,  which  was  not  much 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  195 

like  army  tea,  "you  never  made  this  tea.  A  woman  made 
that  tea,  or  I'm  a  goat.  And  that  toast  was  toasted  by  a 
woman,  and  that  egg  was  poached  by  a  woman.  Where 
am  I?"  I  asked,  imagining  that  I  was  home  again. 

"  You  guessed  it  the  first  time,  pard,"  said  Jim,  as  he 
threw  the  blanket  over  my  shoulders,  as  I  sat  up  on  the 
bunk  to  try  and  eat.  "  The  whole  thing  was  done  by  the 
rebel  angel." 

" Rebel  angel,  Jim;  what  are  you  talking  about? 
There  ain't  any  rebel  angels,"  and  I  became  weak  and  laid 
down  again. 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  rebel  angel,  and  she  is  a  dandy,"  said 
Jim,  as  he  covered  me  up.  ' '  She  is  out  by  the  fire  mak 
ing  milk  toast  for  you.  You  see,  I  went  out  to  the  Brown 
plantation,  to  try  and  steal  an  egg,  and  some  bread,  and 
milk,  but  I  thought,  on  the  way  out,  as  it  was  a  case  of 
life  and  death,  the  stealing  of  it  might  rest  heavy  on  your 
soul  when  you  come  to  pass  in  your  chips,  so  I  concluded 
to  go  to  the  house  and  ask  for  it.  There  was  a  young 
woman  there,  and  I  told  her  the  rtd-headed  corporal  that 
captured  the  female  smuggler,  was  dying,  and  couldn't  eat 
any  hard-tack  and  bacon,  and  I  wanted  to  fill  him  up  on 
white  folks'  food  before  he  died,  so  he  could  go  to  heaven 
or  elsewhere,  as  the  case  might  be,  on  a  full  stomach,  and 
she  flew  around  like  a  kernel  of  pop-corn  on  a  hot  griddle, 
and  picked  up  a  basket  of  stuff,  and  had  the  nigger  saddle 
a  mule  for  her,  and  she  came  right  to  the  camp  with  me, 
and  said  she  would  attend  to  everything.  She's  a  thor 
oughbred,  and  don't  you  make  no  mistake  about  it." 

I  must  have  gone  to  sleep  when  Jim  was  talking  about 
Hie  girl,  for  I  dreamed  that  there  was  a  million  angels  in 


196  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

rebel  uniforms,  poaching  eggs  for  me.  Pretty  soon  I  heard 
a  rustle  of  female  clothes,  and  a  soft,  cool  hand  was  placed 
on  my  forehead,  my  hair  was  brushed  back,  a  perfumed 
handkerchief  wiped  the  cold  perspiration  from  my  face, 
and  I  heard  the  rebel  angel  ask  Jim  what  the  doctor  said 
about  me.  Jim  told  her  what  the  horse  doctor  had  said 
about  curing  a  horse  that  had  been  sick  the  same  as  I  was, 
and  then  she  asked  if  we  had  not  sent  for  the  regular  doc- 
doctor.  Jim  said  we  had  not  thought  of  that.  She  asked 
what  had  been  done  for  me,  and  Jim  told  her  about  the 
French  mustard  episode,  and  the  cayenne  pepper  tea.  I 
thought  she  laughed,  but  it  had  become  dark  in  the  tent, 
and  I  couldn't  see  her  face,  but  she  told  Jim  to  go  after  the 
regimental  surgeon  at  once,  and  Jim  went  out.  The  angel 
asked  me  how  I  felt,  and  I  told  her  I  was  all  right,  but  she 
said  I  was  all  wrong.  I  thanked  her  for  the  trouble  she 
had  taken  to  come  so  far,  and  she  said  not  to  mention  it. 
She  said  she  had  a  brother  who  was  a  prisoner  at  the  North, 
and  if  somebody  would  only  be  kind  to  him  if  he  was  sick, 
she  would  be  well  repaid.  She  said  the  last  she  heard  of 
him  he  was  a  prisoner  of  war  at  Madison,  Wis.,  and  she 
wondered  what  kind  of  people  lived  there,  away  off  on  the 
frontier,  and  if  they  could  be  kind  to  their  enemies.  That 
touched  me  where  I  lived,  and  I  raised  up  on  my  elbow, 
and  said  : 

"Why  bless  your  heart,  Miss,  if  your  brother  is  a  pris 
oner  in  old  Camp  Kandall,  in  Madison,  he  has  got  a  pic 
nic.  That  town  was  my  home  before  I  came  down  here  on 
this  fool  job.  The  people  there  are  the  finest  in  the  world. 
All  of  them,  from  old  Governor  Lewis,  to  the  poorest  man 
in  town,  would  set  up  nights  with  a  sick  person,  whether 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  197 

he  was  a  rebel  or  not.  Your  brother  couldn't  be  better 
fixed  if  he  was  at  home.  The  idea  of  a  man  suffering  for 
food,  clothing,  or  human  sympathy  in  Madison,  would  be 
ridiculous.  There  is  not  a  family  in  that  town,"  I  said, 
becoming  excited  from  the  feeling  that  any  one  doubted 
the  humanity  of  the  people  of  Wisconsin,  "but  would 
divide  their  breakfast,  and  their  clothes,  and  their  money, 
with  your  brother,  egad,  I  wish  I  was  there  myself.  1 
will  be  responsible  for  your  brother,  Miss." 

She  told  me  to  lay  down  and  be  quiet,  and  not  talk  any 
more,  as  I  was  becoming  wild.  She  said  she  was  glad  to 
know  what  kind  of  people  lived  there,  as  she  had  supposed 
it  was  a  wilderness.  In  a  few  minutes  Jim  came  back  and 
said  the  doctor  was  playing  poker  with  some  other  officers, 
in  a  captain's  tent,  and  he  didn't  dare  go  in  and  break  up 
the  game,  but  he  spoke  to  the  doctor's  orderly,  and  he  said 
I  ought  to  take  castor  oil.  That  didn't  please  the  little 
woman  at  all,  and  she  told  Jim  to  go  to  the  poker  tent  and 
tell  the  doctor  to  come  at  once,  or  she  would  come  after 
him.  It  was  not  long  before  the  doctor  came  stooping  in 
to  my  pup  tent.  His  idea  was  to  have  all  sick  men  attend 
surgeon's  call  in  the  morning,  and  not  go  around  visiting 
the  sick  in  tents.  He  asked  me  what  was  the  matter,  and 
I  told  him  nothing  much.  Then  he  asked  me  why  I  wasn't 
at  surgeon's  call  in  the  morning.  I  told  him  the  reason 
was  that  I  was  wading  in  a  swamp,  after  the  rebels  that 
ambushed  some  of  our  boys  the  day  before.  "Then  you've 
got  malaria,"  said  he.  "  Take  some  quinine  tonight,  and 
come  to  surgeon's  call  in  the  morning."  The  little  woman, 
the  "rebel  angel,"  got  her  back  up  at  the  coolness  of  the 
doctor,  and  she  gave  him  a  piece  of  her  mind,  and  then  he 


198  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  .PECK 

called  for  a  candle,  and  he  examined  me  carefully.  When 
he  got  through,  he  said  : 

"He  is  going  to  have  a  run  of  fever.  He  must  be  sent 
to  the  hospital.  Jim,  go  tell  the  driver  to  send  the  ambu 
lance  here  at  once,  and  you,  Jim,  go  along  and  see  that 
siiis  fellow  gets  to  the  hospital  all  right.  He  can't  live  here 
in  a  tent,  and  I  doubt  if  he  will  in  the  hospital." 

That  settled  it.  In  a  short  time  the  ambulance  came, 
and  I  got  in  and  sat  on  a  seat,  and  the  "rebel  angel"  got 
in  with  me,  and  we  rode  seven  miles  to  the  hospital,  over 
the  roughest  road  a  sick  man  ever  jolted  over,  and  I  would 
have  died,  if  I  could  have  had  my  own  way  about  it,  but 
the  little  woman  talked  so  cheerfully  that  when  we  arrived 
at  the  great  building,  I  should  have  considered  myself 
well,  only  that  my  mind  was  wandering.  All  I  remember 
of  my  entrance  to  the  hospital  was  that  when  we  got  out  of 
the  ambulance  Jim  was  there  on  his  horse,  leading  the 
mule  belonging  to  the  angel.  Some  attendants  helped  me 
up  stairs,  and  down  a  corridor,  where  we  met  two  stretch 
ers  being  carried  out  to  the  dead  house  with  bodies  on 
them,  and  I  had  to  sit  in  a  chair  and  wait  till  clean  sheets 
could  be  put  on  one  of  the  cots  where  a  man  had  just  died. 
The  little  woman  told  me  to  keep  up  my  courage,  and  she 
would  come  and  see  me  often,  Jim  cried  and  said  he  would 
come  every  day,  a  man  said,  "your  bed  is  ready,  No.  197," 
and  I  laid  down  as  No.  197,  and  didn't  care  whether  I  ever 
got  tip  again  or  not.  I  just  had  breath  enough  left  to  bid 
the  angel  good  bye,  and  tell  Jim  to  see  her  safe  home. 
Jim  said,  "  You  bet  your  life  I  will,"  and  the  world  seemed 
blotaed  out,  and  for  ail  I  cared,  I  was  dead. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  199 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MY  VARIED  EXPERIENCES  IN  THE  HOSPITAL— THE  DOCTOR  SEEMS 
SURE  OF  MY  DEATH — I  SUGGEST  THE  POSTPONEMENT  OF  MY 
FUNERAL— I  GET  VERY  SICK  OF  GRUEL— I  Go  BACK  TO  MY 
REGIMENT. 

Let's  see,  last  week  I  wound  up  in  the  hospital.  When 
Jim,  my  old  comrade,  and  the  rebel  angel,  left  me,  I  died, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes.  I  supposed  I  was  going  to 
sleep,  but  after  I  got  well  enough  to  know  what  was  going 
on,  I  found  that  for  about  ten  days  I  had  been  out  of  my 
head.  It  was  not  much  of  a  head  to  get  out  of,  but  how 
ever  small  and  insignificant  a  man's  head  is,  he  had  rather 
have  it  with  him,  keeping  good  time,  than  to  have  it  wan 
dering  around  out  of  his  reach.  When  I  "come  to/' as 
the  saying  is,  it  only  seemed  as  though  I  had  been  asleep 
over  night,  but  I  dreamed  more  than  any  able-bodied  man 
could  have  done  in  one  night.  I  was  what  they  call  un 
conscious,  but  I  did  a  great  deal  of  work  during  that 
period  of  unconsciousness.  One  thing  I  did,  which  I  was 
proud  of,  was  to  wind  up  the  war.  I  arranged  it  so  that 
all  of  the  bullets  that  were  fired  on  each  side,  were  made 
of  India-rubber,  like  those  little  toy  balloons,  and  war  was 
just  fun.  The  boys  on  both  sides  would  fire  at  each  other 
and  watch  the  rubber  balloons  hit  the  mark,  and  explode, 
and  nobody  was  hurt,  and  everybody  laughed.  There  was 
no  more  blood.  Everything  was  rubber  and  wind.  There 
was  no  one  killed,  no  legs  shot  off,  and  the  men  on  each 
side,  when  not  fighting  with  the  harmless  missiles,  were 
is 


200  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

gathered  together,  blue  and  gray,  having  a  regular  picnic, 
and  every  evening  there  was  a  dance,  the  rebels  furnishing 
the  girls.  In  my  delirium  I  could  see  that  my  rebel  angel 
was  dancing  a  good  deal  with  the  boys,  and  frequently  with 
my  comrade,  Jim,  and  I  was  pretty  jealous.  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  I  wouldn't  speak  to  either  of  them  again.  I 
would  watch  my  balloon  battles  with  a  good  deal  of  interest, 
and  think  how  much  better  and  safer  it  was  to  fight  that 
way.  Every  day,  when  the  battle  was  over,  and  the  two 
sides  would  get  together  for  fun,  I  noticed  when  the  bugle 
sounded  for  battle  again,  that  on  each  side  the  boys  were 
terribly  mixed,  there  being  about  as  many  blue-coated 
Yankees  among  the  gray  rebels  as  there  were  rebels  among 
the  Yankees,  and  after  awhile  it  seemed  as  though  all 
were  dressed  alike,  in  a  sort  of  "  blue-gray,"  and  then  they 
disappeared,  and  I  recovered  my  senses.  Frequently,  dur 
ing  my  delirium  and  unconsciousness,  I  would  feel  my 
mouth  pulled  open,  and  hear  a  spoon  chink  against  my 
teeth,  and  I  would  taste  something  bad  going  down  my 
neck,  and  then  my  head  would  buzz  as  though  a  swarm  of 
bees  had  taken  up  their  abode  where  my  brain  used  to  be. 
Sometimes  I  would  hear  the  clanking  of  a  saber  and  a  pair 
of  Mexican  spurs,  and  feel  a  great  big  hand  on  my  head, 
and  I  knew  that  was  Jim,  but  I  couldn't  move  a  muscle,  or 
say  a  word.  "I  guess  he's  dead,  ain't  he  doc?"  I  would 
hear  in  Jim's  voice,  and  the  doc  would  say  there  was  a  lit 
tle  life  left,  but  not  enough  to  swear  by.  Then  the  doc 
would  say,  "  You  better  come  in  about  10:30  tomorrow,  as 
we  bury  them  all  at  that  hour,  and  I  guess  he'll  croak  by 
that  time."  I  tried  to  speak  and  tell  them  that  I  was 
alive,  and  that,  I  was  going  to  get  well,  but  it  wasn't  any 


BfiBBb  AHOBL"  GIVES  XSfi  2X)CTOB  A  PIECE  OF  BBR  MQOX 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  201 

use.  I  was  tongue-tied.  Again  I  would  hear  the  sweet 
rustle  of  a  dress,  and  feel  a  warm  hand  on  my  head,  and  I 
knew  that  the  rebel  angel  had  rode  her  mule  to  town  to 
see  me.  Then  I  would  try  hard  to  tell  her  that  I  was  going 
to  write  a  letter  to  the  governor  of  Wisconsin,  and  ask 
him  to  look  out  particularly  for  her  brother,  who  was  a 
rebel  prisoner  at  Madison,  and  take  care  of  him  if  he  was 
sick,  but  I  couldn't  say  a  word,  and  after  smoothing  my 
hair  a  little  while,  she  would  give  my  cheek  three  or  four 
pats,  just  as  a  mother  pats  her  child,  and  she  would  go 
away. 

One  morning,  a  little  after  daylight,  I  woke  up  and 
looked  around  the  ward  of  the  hospital.  My  eyes  were 
weak,  and  I  was  hungry  as  a  bear.  I  had  to  try  two  or 
three  times  before  I  could  raise  my  hand  to  my  head,  and 
when  I  felt  of  my  head  it  seemed  awfully  small.  I  could 
feel  my  cheek  bones  stick  out  so  that  you  could  hang  your 
hat  on  them.  My  cheeks  were  sunken,  and  my  fingers 
were  like  pipe-stems.  I  wondered  how  a  man  could 
change  so  in  one  night.  I  saw  two  or  three  fellows  over 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  I  thought  I  would  get 
up  and  go  over  there  and  have  some  fun  with  them.  I 
wanted  to  know  where  my  horse  was,  and  where  I  was.  I 
tried  to  raise  up  and  couldn't  get  any  further  than  on  my 
elbow.  From  that  position  I  looked  around  to  see  what 
was  going  on,  and  tried  to  attract  the  attention  of  some 
attendant.  Finally,  I  saw  four  fellows  bringing  a  strecther 
along  towards  my  cot.  They  had  evidently  been  told  by 
the  doctor  that  I  would  be  dead  in  the  morning,  and  hav 
ing  confidence  in  the  word  of  the  professional  man,  had 
come  to  take  me  to  the  dead  house,  before  the  other  sick 


202  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOEGE   W.  PECK 

man  was  awake.  As  they  came  up  to  the  foot  of  my  cot 
and  sat  the  stretcher  down,  I  thought  I  would  play  a  joke 
on  them.  I  pulled  the  sheet  over  my  face,  and  laid  still. 
One  of  the  men  said,  "  Two  of  us  can  lift  it,  as  it  is  thin 
ner  than  a  lathe."  To  be  considered  dead,  when  I  was 
alive,  was  bad  enough,  but  to  be  called  "it"  was  too  much. 
I  felt  one  of  the  men  take  hold  of  my  feet,  and  then  I 
threw  the  sheet  off  my  face  and  in  a  hoarse  voice  I  said, 
"  Say,  Mr.  Body-snotcher,  you  can  postpone  the  funeral 
and  bring  me  a  porter-house  steak  and  some  fried  potatoes." 
Well,  nobody  ever  saw  a  couple  of  men  fall  over  them 
selves  and  turn  pale,  as  those  fellows  did.  Before  I  had 
given  my  order  for  breakfast,  the  two  men  had  fallen  back 
over  the  stretcher  and  the  two  others  were  backing  off  as 
though  a  ghost  had  appeared,  But  finally  they  came 
toward  me  and  I  convinced  them  that  I  was  not  dead. 
They  seemed  hurt  to  know  that  I  was  still  alive,  and  one  of 
them  went  off  after  the  doctor,  to  enter  a  complaint,  I  sup 
posed.  The  doctor  soon  came  and  he  was  the  only  one 
that  seemed  pleased  at  my  recovery.  He  ordered  some  sort 
of  gruel  for  me,  but  wouldn't  let  me  have  meat  and  things. 
I  took  the  gruel  under  protest  but  it  did  strengthen  me.  I 
told  the  doctor  I  wanted  him  to  send  for  my  horse,  because 
I  wanted  to  go  out  with  the  boys,  but  he  said  he  guessed  I 
wouldn't  go  out  with  the  boys  very  soon.  He  said  I  might 
sit  up  in  bed  a  little  while,  and  when  I  did  so  I  found  that 
I  did  not  have  my  clothes  on,  but  was  clothed  in"a  hospital 
night-gown,  which  was  also  used  for  a  shroud  for  burial 
when  a  fellow  died.  He  said  Jim  and  the  girl  would  be 
in  about  10  o'clock,  as  he  had  sent  for  them,  and  some  of 
my  comrades.  I  told  him  if  I  was  going  to  entertain  com- 


PUT   DOWN   THE   REBELLION".  203 

pany.  and  give  a  reception,  I  wanted  my  pants  on,  as  I  was 
sure  no  gentleman  could  give  a  reception  successfully 
without  pants.  The  doctor  seemed  sort  of  glad  to  see  me 
taking  an  interest  in  human  affairs  again,  and  so  he  let  me 
put  my  pants  and  jacket  on.  I  got  a  butcher  to  shave  me, 
and  when  ten  o'clock  came  I  looked  quite  presentable  for 
a  skeleton.  I  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  with  a  little  round 
zinc  frame  looking-glass,  noting  the  changes  in  my  personal 
appearance,  when  a  door  opened  and  Jim  entered,  dressed 
up  in  his  best,  with  the  rebel  angel  on  his  arm,  and  fol 
lowed  by  six  boys  from  the  regiment.  They  came  in  as 
solemn  as  any  party  I  ever  saw.  The  angel  looked 
as  sad  as  I  ever  saw  anybody,  and  I  thought  she  had  prob 
ably  heard  that  her  brother  was  dead.  It  did  not  occur  to 
me  that  they  had  come  to  attend  my  funeral.  They  stood 
there  by  the  door,  in  that  helpless  manner  that  people 
always  stand  around  at  a  funeral,  waiting  for  the  master  of 
ceremonies  to  tell  them  that  they  can  now  pass  in  the  other 
room  and  view  the  remains.  I  finally  caught  Jim  looking 
my  way,  and  I  waved  a  handkerchief  at  him.  He  gave  me 
one  look,  and  jumped  over  two  cots  and  came  up  to  me 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  a  package  in  his  hand,  and  said, 
"  Pard,  you  ain't  dead  worth  a  cent,"  and  then  he  hugged 
me,  and  added,  "  but  there  ain't  enough  left  of  you  for  a 
full  size  funeral."  Then  he  unrolled  the  package  he  had 
in  his  hand,  and  dropped  on  the  bed  four  silver-plated  coffin 
handles.  By  that  time  the  girl,  and  the  six  boys  had  seen 
me,  and  they  came  over,  and  we  had  a  regular  visit.  They 
were  all  surprised  to  find  me  alive,  as  they  had  been  notified 
that  I  was  on  my  last  legs,  and  would  be  buried  in  the 
morning,  and  the  captain  had  detailed  the  six  boys  to  act 


204  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

as  pall- bearers  and  fire  a  salute  over  the  grave,  while  Jim 
and  the  girl  were  to  act  as  mourners. 

" Well,  it  saves  ammunition/' said  Jim.  "But  how 
be  I  going  to  get  these  coffin  handles  off  my  hands.  There 
is  no  dependence  to  be  placed  on  doctors,  anyway.  When 
that  doctor  appointed  this  funeral,  we  thought  he  knew 
his  business,  and  I  told  the  angel,  says  I,  '  My  pard  aint 
going  to  be  buried  without  any  style,  in  one  of  those  pine 
boxes  that  aint  planed,  and  has  got  slivers  on/  So  I 
hired  the  hospital  coffin-maker  to  sand-paper  the  inside 
and  outside  of  a  box,  and  black  it  with  shoe-blacking,  and 
I  went  to  a  store  down  town  and  bought  these  handles.  Of 
course,  pard,  I  am  glad  you  pulled  through,  and  all  that, 
but  I  want  to  say  to  you,  if  you  had  croaked  in  the  night, 
and  been  ready  to  bury  this  A.  M.,  you  would  have  had  a 
more  sl/lish  outfit  than  anybody,  except  officers,  usually 
get  in  this  army,  and  the  angel  and  I  would  have  been  a 
pair  of  mourners  that  would  l.cxe  slung  grief  so  your  folks 
to  home  would  have  felt  proud  of  you." 

The  angel  was  tickled  to  see  me  alive,  and  suggested  to 
Jim  and  the  boys,  that  it  was  easy  to  talk  a  fellow  to  death 
after  he  had  been  so  sick,  and  told  them  to  go  back  to 
camp,  and  she  would  stay  with  me  all  day.  So  the  boys 
shook  hands  with  me,  and  Jim  had  an  attendant  to  roll 
my  cot  up  to  a  window,  so  I  could  see  my  horse  when  they 
rode  away.  The  boys  got  on  their  horses  and  Jim  led  my 
horse,  and  I  could  see  that  my  pet  had  been  fixed  up  for 
the  occasion.  He  had  the  saddle  on,  and  it  was  draped 
with  black,  a  pair  of  boots  were  fastened  in  the  stirrups, 
and  my  carbine  was  in  the  socket.  The  idea  was  to  have 
my  horse,  with  empty  boot  and  saddle,  tied  behind  th 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLIOtfc  205 

wagon  that  took  me  to  the  cemetery  where  soldiers  wind 
up  their  career.  It  was  not  a  cheerful  thing  to  look  at, 
and  to  think  of,  but  it  did  me  good  to  see  the  old  horse, 
and  the  boys  ride  away  in  good  health,  and  happy  at  my 
escape,  and  it  encouraged  me  to  make  every  effort  to  get 
well,  so  I  could  ride  with  the  gang.  The  rebel  angel  re 
mained  with  me  till  almost  night,  and  superintended  my 
eating.  No  person  who  has  never  had  a  fever,  can  appre 
ciate  the  appetite  of  a  person  when  the  fever  ls  turns."  I 
wanted  everything  that  was  ever  eaten,  and  roast  beef  or  tur 
key  was  constantly  in  my  mind.  As  anything  of  that  kind 
would  have  made  use  for  Jim's  coffin-handles,  I  had  to  put  up 
with  soups  and  gruels.  The  doctor  thought  that  this  thin 
gruel  was  good  enough,  but  it  didn't  seem  to  hit  thje  spot, 
and  so  the  girl  asked  the  doctor  if  he  thought  nice  gumbo 
soup  and  a  weak  milk  punch  wouldn't  be  pretty  good  for 
me.  He  said  it  would,  but  nobody  in  the  hospital  could 
make  gumbo  soup,  or  milk  punch.  She  said  she  could, 
and  she  told  me  not  to  eat  a  thing  until  she  came  back, 
and  she  would  bring  me  a  dish  fit  for  the  gods.  She  said 
she  knew  an  old  colored  woman  in  town,  who  cooked  for  a 
lady  friend  of  hers,  who  had  some  gumbo,  and  the  lady 
had  a  little  brandy  that  was  seventy  years  old,  but  she  said 
the  lady  was  a  rebel,  and  I  must  overlook  that.  I  told  her 
I  didn't  care,  as  I  had  got  considerably  mashed  on  all  the 
rebels  I  had  met  personally.  She  went  out  with  a  smile 
that  would  have  knocked  a  stronger  man  than  I  was  silly, 
and  I  turned  over  and  took  a  nap,  the  first  real  sleep  I  had 
had  in  a  week.  I  woke  up  finally  smelling  something  that 
Was  not  gruel.  0,  I  had  got  so  sick  of  gruel.  The  angel 
handed  me  a  glass  of  milk  punch,  and  told  me  tc  drink  a 


206  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE   W.  PECK 

swallow  and  a  half.  I  have  drank  a  great  many  beverages 
in  my  lifetime,  but  I  never  swallowed  anything  that  was  as 
good  as  the  milk  punch  that  rebel  girl  made  for  me.  It 
seemed  to  go  clear  to  my  toes,  and  I  felt  strong.  Then  she 
gave  me  a  small  soup  plate  and  told  me  to  taste  of  the 
gumbo.  I  had  never  tasted  gumbo  soup  before,  but  I  had 
no  difficulty  in  mastering  it.  No  description  can  do  gumbo 
soup  justice,  or  explain  to  a  person  who  has  never  tasted  it 
the  rich  odor,  and  palatable  taste.  The  little  that  I  ate 
seemed  to  make  a  man  of  me  again,  instead  of  the  weak 
invalid.  Since  then  I  have  been  loyal  to  southern  gumbo 
soup,  and  have  always  eaten  it  wherever  it  could  be  ob 
tained,  and  I  never  ptft  a  spoonful  of  it  to  my  lips  without 
thinking  of  the  rebel  girl  in  the  hospital,  who  prepared 
that  dish  for  me.  If  I  ever  become  a  glutton,  it  will  be  on 
gumbo  soup,  and  if  I  am  ever  a  drunkard,  it  will  be  a 
milk-punch  drunkard,  and  the  soup  and  the  punch  must 
be  prepared  in  the  South. 

Well,  my  experience  after  that,  in  the  hospital,  was 
about  the  same  as  a  hundred  thousand  other  boys  in  blue, 
only  few  of  the  boys  had  such  care,  and  such  food.  The 
girl  kept  me  supplied  with  gumbo  soup  and  milk  punch 
until  I  could  eat  heartier  food,  and  in  a  couple  of  days  I 
got  so  I  could  walk  around  the  hospital.  At  home  I  had 
never  been  much  of  a  hand  to  be  around  with  the  sick, 
but  experience  had  been  a  good  teacher,  and  I  found  that 
going  around  among  the  boys,  and  talking  cheerfully  did 
them  good  and  me  too.  I  found  men  from  my  own  regi 
ment,  that  I  did  not  know  had  been  sick.  The  custom 
was  to  make  just  as  little  show  about  sending  sick  men  to 
the  hospital,  as  possible,  hence  they  were  often  packed  off 


\ 


PUT   DOWN   THE    REBELLION.  207 

in  the  night,  and  the  first  their  comrades  would  know  of 
their  illness  would  be  a  detail  to  bury  them,  or  a  boy 
would  suddenly  appear  in  his  company,  looking  pale  and 
sick,  having  been  discharged  from  the  hospital.  If  the 
men  had  known  how  many  of  their  comrades  were  sent  to 
the  hospital,  it  would  have  demoralized  the  well  ones.  For 
ten  days  I  visited  around  among  the  sick  men,  telling  a 
funny  story  to  a  group  here  and  there,  and  cheering  them 
up,  and  writing  letters  home  for  fellows  that  were  too  weak 
to  write.  I  learned  to  lie  a  little  bit  in  writing  letters  for 
the  boys.  One  young  fellow  who  had  his  leg  taken  off, 
wanted  me  to  write  to  his  intended,  and  tell  her  all  about 
it,  how  the  leg  was  taken  off,  and  how  he  was  sick  and 
discouraged,  and  would  always  be  a  cripple  and  a  burden 
on  his  friends,  etc.  I  wrote  the  letter  entirely  different 
from  the  way  he  told  me.  I  spoke  of  his  being  wounded 
in  the  leg,  but  that  the  care  he  received  had  made  him 
all  right,  and  that  he  would  probably  soon  have  a  dis 
charge,  and  be  home,  and  make  them  all  happy.  I  thought 
to  myself  that  if  she  loved  him  as  a  girl  ought  to,  that  a 
leg  or  two  short  wouldn't  make  any  difference  to  her,  and 
there  was  no  use  of  harrowing  up  her  feelings  in  advance, 
and  that  he  could  buy  a  cork  leg  before  he  got  home,  and 
may  be  she  would  never  find  it  out.  I  might  have  been 
wrong,  but  when  he  got  an  answer  from  that  letter  he 
was  the  happiest  fellow  I  ever  saw  in  this  world,  and  he 
arranged  at  my  suggestion,  to  stop  over  in  New  York  and 
get  a  cork  leg  before  he  went  home.  I  have  never  learned 
whether  the  girl  ever  found  out  that  he  had  a  cork  leg,  but 
if  she  did,  and  blames  anybody,  she  can  lay  it  to  me.  Lots 
of  the  boys  that  I  wrote  letters  for  wanted  to  detail  all  of 


208  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

their  calamities  to  their  mothers  and  sisters  and  sweet 
hearts,  but  I  worded  the  letters  in  a  funny  sort  of  way,  so 
that  the  friends  at  home  would  not  be  worried',  and  the 
answers  the  boys  got  would  please  them  very  much.  The 
hardest  work  I  had  was  a  couple  of  days  writing  letters  for 
a  doctor,  to  relatives  of  boys  who  had  died,  detailing  the 
sickness,  death  and  burial,  and  notifying  friends  that  they 
could  obtain  the  personal  effects  of  the  deceased,  clothing, 
money,  pipes,  knives,  etc.,  by  sending  express  charges.  It 
always  seemed  to  me  that  if  I  had  been  running  the  govern 
ment  I  would  have  paid  the  express  charges  on  the  cloth 
ing  of  the  boys  who  had  died,  if  I  didn't  lay  up  a  cent. 

Finally  I  got  well  enough  to  go  back  to  my  regiment, 
and  one  day  I  showed  up  at  my  company,  and  the  first 
man  I  met  saluted  me  and  said,  " Hello,  Lieutenant."  I 
told  him  he  did  wrong  to  joke  a  sick  man  that  way,  and  I 
went  on  to  find  Jim.  He  was  in  our  tent,  greasing  his 
shoes,  and  he  looked  up  with  a  queer  expression  on  his  face 
and  said,  "Hello,  Lieutenant." 

"Look  a  here."  I  said,  as  I  grasped  his  greasy  hand, 
"what  do  you  fellows  mean  by  calling  me  names,  I  have 
never  done  anything  to  deserve  to  be  made  a  fool  of.  Pard, 
what  ails  you  anyway?" 

"Didn't  they  tell  you,"  said  Jim,  as  he  scraped  the 
mud  off  his  other  shoe  with  a  stick.  "The  colonel  has 
sent  your  name  to  the  governor  of  Wisconsin  to  be  com 
missioned  as  second  Lieutenant  of  the  company.  All  the 
boys  are  tickled  to  death,  and  they  are  going  to  whoop  it 
up  for  you  when  your  commission  comes.  But  this  pup  tent 
will  not  be  good  enough  for  you  then,  and  old  Jim  will  have 
to  pick  up  another  pard^  You  won't  have  to  cook  your  bacon 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  209 

on  a  stick  when  you  get  your  commission,  and  you  can  drink 
out  of  a  leather  covered  flask  instead  of  a  flannel  covered 
canteen.  But  by  the  great  horn  spoons  I  shall  love  you  if 
you  get  to  be  a  Jigadier  Brindle,"  and  the  old  pard  looked 
as  though  he  wanted  to  cry  like  a  baby. 

"Jim/'  I  said,  "  I  think  the  fellows  are  giving  us  taffy, 
and  that  there  is  nothing  in  this  Lieutenant  business.  But 
if  there  is,  you  will  be  my  pard  till  this  cruel  war  is  over, 
and  don't  you  forget  it,"  and  I  went  along  the  company 
street  towards  the  colonel's  tent,  leaning  on  a  cane,  and  all 
the  boys  congratulated  me,  and  I  felt  like  a  fool. 

"Lieutenant,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  back,"  said  the 
Colonel,  as  I  entered  his  tent,  and  he  showed  it  in  his  face. 

"What  is  the  foolishness,  colonel?"  I  asked.  "The 
boys  are  all  guying  me.  Can't  I  stay  a  private?" 


210  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THANKSGIVING  DINNER  WITH  THE  "REBEL  ANGEL"  — SHE  GIVES 
ME  A  WORLD  OF  GOOD  ADVICE  —  CAN  AN  OFFICER  BE  DE~ 

TAILED  TO  GO  AND   SHOVEL  DlRT  ?  —  MY  FlRST  DAY  AS  A   COM 
MISSIONED  OFFICER. 

The  last  chapter  of  this  history  wound  up  in  my  inter 
view  with  the  colonel,  in  which  he  told  me  that  what  the 
boys  had  said  was  true,  and  that  I  had  a  right  to  be  called 
"  Lieutenant."  He  said  there  was  a  vacancy  in  the  com 
missioned  officers  of  my  company,  caused  by  some  dis 
crepancy  in  regard  to  the  ownership  of  a  horse  which  an 
officer  had  sold  as  belonging  to  him,  when  investigation 
showed  that  fliere  was  "U.  S."  branded  on  the  horse. 
The  colonel  said  he  had  looked  over  the  company  pretty 
thoroughly,  and  while  I  was  not  all  that  he  could  desire 
in  an  officer,  there  were  less  objections  to  me  than  to  many 
others,  and  he  had  recommended  the  governor  of  our  state 
to  commission  me.  He  said  he  didn't  want  me  to  run 
away  with  the  idea  that  my  promotion  from  private  to  a 
commissioned  office  was  for  any  particular  gallantry,  or 
*hat  I  was  particularly  entitled  to  promotion,  but  I  seemed 
,he  most  available.  It  was  true,  he  said,  that  I  had  done 
everything  I  had  been  told  to  do,  in  a  cheerful  manner, 
and  had  not  displayed  any  cowardice,  that  he  knew  of, 
though  I  had  often  admitted  to  him  that  I  was  a  coward. 
He  said  he  thought  few  men  knew  whether  they  were 
cowards  or  not,  until  they  got  in  a  tight  place,  and  that 
most  men  honestly  believed  they  were  cowards,  but  they 


\ 


PUT  DOWN"  THE  REBELLION.  211 

didn't  want  others  to  know  it,  and  they  took  pains  to  con 
ceal  the  fact.  He  said  he  had  rather  be  considered  a  cow 
ard  than  a  dare-devil  of  bravery,  for  if  he  flunked  when  a 
chance  came  to  show  his  metal,  it  wouldn't  be  thought 
much  of,  and  if  he  pulled  through,  and  made  a  decent 
record  for  bravery,  he  would  get  a  heap  of  credit.  He 
said  he  believed  it  took  a  man  with  more  nerve  to  do  some 
things  he  had  ordered  me  to  do,  than  it  did  to  get  behind 
a  tree  and  shoot  at  the  enemy,  and  he  was  willing  to  take 
his  chances  on  me.  He  congratulated  me,  and  some  of  the 
other  officers  did  the  same. 

I  was  invited  to  sit  into  a  game  of  draw  poker  with 
some  of  the  officers.  I  pleaded  that  I  was  not  sufficiently 
recovered  from  my  sickness  to  play  poker,  and  I  went  back 
to  my  tent  to  talk  with  Jim.  I  was  thinking  over  the  new 
responsibilities  that  were  about  to  come  to  me,  and  figuring 
on  the  salary.  A  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  month  !  It 
is  cruel  to  raise  the  salary  of  a  poor  devil  from  thirteen 
dollars  a  month  to  a  hundred  and  fifty.  I  wondered  how 
in  the  world  the  government  was  ever  going  to  get  that 
much  out  of  me.  Certainly  I  couldn't  do  any  more  than 
I  had  been  doing  towards  crushing  the  rebellion  for  thir 
teen  dollars.  And  what  would  I  do  with  so  much  money? 
In  my  wildest  dreams  of  promotion  I  had  never  hoped  to 
be  a  commissioned  officer.  I  had  thought  sometimes,  a 
week  or  two  after  I  enlisted,  that  if  I  was  a  general  I  could 
put  down  the  rebellion  so  quick  the  government  would 
have  lots  of  rations  left  on  its  hands  to  spoil,  but  a  few 
months  active  service  had  taken  all  that  sort  of  nonsense 
out  of  me,  and  I  had  been  contented  as  a  private.  But 
here  I  was  jumped  over  everybody,  and  made  an  officer  un- 


HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

beknown  to  me.  It  made  me  dizzy.  I  was  not  very  strong 
anyway,  and  this  thing  had  come  upon  me  suddenly  I 
was  thinking  of  the  magnificent  uniform  I  would  have, 
and  the  fancy  saddle  and  bridle,  and  the  regular  officer's 
tent,  with  bottles  of  whiskey  and  glasses,  when  Jim  asked 
me  if  I  wouldn't  just  hold  that  frying-pan  of  bacon  over 
the  fire,  while  he  cooked  some  coffee.  He  said  we  would 
just  eat  a  little  to  settle  our  stomachs,  and  then  go  out  to 
Thanksgiving  dinner. 

"  Thanksgiving  dinner,"  I  said.  "  What  are  you  talk 
ing  about  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know,"  said  Jim,  "  to-day  is  Thanksgiving? 
The  <e angel"  told  me  last  night  to  bring  you  out  to  the 
plantation  to-day,  and  I  was  going  after  you  at  the  hospital 
if  you  hadn't  showed  up.  She  has  received  a  letter  from 
her  brother,  who  is  a  rebel  prisoner  at  Madison,  and  he 
says  a  Yankee  hotel-keeper  at  Madison,  that  you  had  writ 
ten  to,  had  called  at  the  pen  where  they  were  kept,  and 
had  brought  him  a  lot  of  turkey  and  fixings,  and  offered 
to  send  him  a  lot  for  Thanksgiving,  so  the  rebel  boys  could 
have  a  big  feed,  and  he  says  he  is  well  and  happy,  and 
going  to  be  exchanged  soon.  And  she  wants  us  to  come 
out  and  eat  turkey  and  'possum.  I  had  rather  eat  gray 
tom-cat  than  'possum,  but  I  told  her  we  would  come.  So 
we  will  eat  a  little  bacon  and  bread,  and  ride  out. 

"Well,  all  right  Jim,"  I  said.  "We  will  go,  but  in 
my  weak  state  I  can't  be  expected  to  eat  'possum.  If  there 
is  anything  of  that  kind  to  be  eat,  Jim,  you  will  have  to 
eat  it.  However,  I  will  do  anything  the  rebel  angel  asks 
me  to  do,"  I  added,  remembering  her  kindness  to  me  when 
I  was  sick. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION;  213 

The  ride  to  the  plantation,  after  several  weeks'  confine  • 
ment,  was  better  than  medicine,  and  I  enjoyed  every  step 
my  proud  horse  took.  The  animal  acted  as  though  he  had 
been  told  of  my  promotion,  but  it  was  plain  to  me  that  he 
acted  proud,  because  he  had  been  resting  during  my  sick 
ness.  It  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  Jim  alongside  of  me. 
He  would  fall  back  every  little  while  and  try  to  act  like  an 
orderly  riding  behind  an  officer.  I  had  to  discipline  him 
before  he  would  come  up  alongside  like  a  "partner/*  I 
mention  this  Thanksgiving  dinner  in  the  army,  in  order  to 
bring  in  a  little  advice  the  rebel  girl  gave  me,  which  I 
shall  always  remember.  We  arrived  at  the  old  plantation 
house  where  the  girl  and  her  mother  and  some  servants 
were  living,  waiting  for  the  war  to  close,  so  the  men  folks 
could  come  back.  The  old  lady  welcomed  us  cordially, 
the  girl  warmly  and  the  servants  effusively.  The  dinner 
was  good,  though  not  elaborate,  except  the  'possum.  That 
was  elaborate,  and  next  to  gumbo  soup,  the  finest  dish  I 
ever  tasted.  After  we  had  got  seated  at  the  table,  the  old 
lady  asked  a  blessing,  and  it  was  more  like  a  prayer.  She 
asked  for  a  blessing  upon  all  ol  the  men  in  both  armies, 
and  made  us  feel  as  though  there  was  no  bitterness  in  her 
heart  towards  the  enemies  of  her  people.  During  the  din 
ner  Jim  told  of  my  promotion,  and  the  circumstance  was 
commented  on  by  all,  and  after  dinner  the  rebel  angel  took 
me  one  side,  and  said  she  had  got  a  few  words  of  advice  t  ~> 
give  me.  She  commenced  by  saying: 

"Now  that  you  are  to  be  a  commissioned  officer,  don't 
get  the  big  head.  During  this  war,  we  have  had  soldiers 
near  us  all  the  time,  and  I  have  seen  some  splendid  soldiers 
spoiled  by  being  commissioned.  Nine  out  of  ten  men  that 

16 


214  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORQE  W.  PECK 

have  received  commissions  in  this  locality,  have  been 
spoiled .  I  am  a  few  years  older  than  you,  and  have  seen 
much  of  the  world.  You  are  a  kind  hearted  man,  and  de 
sire  to  treat  everybody  well,  whether  rich  or  poor,  yankee 
or  confederate.  If  you  let  this  commission  spoil  you,  ya'i 
are  not  worthy  of  it.  You  will  naturally  feel  as  though 
you  should  associate  with  officers  entirely,  but  you  will  find 
in  them  no  better  companions  than  you  have  found  in  the 
private  soldiers,  and  I  doubt  if  you  will  find  as  true  friends. 
Do  not,  under  any  circumstances,  draw  away  from  your 
old  friends,  and  let  a  barrier  raise  up  between  you  and 
them.  My  observation  teaches  me  that  the  only  difference 
between  the  officers  and  men  in  the  Union  army,  is  that 
officers  get  more  pay  for  doing  less  duty;  they  become  dis 
sipated  and  fast  because  they  can  better  afford  it,  they 
drink  more,  put  on  style,  play  cards  for  money,  and  think 
the  world  revolves  around  them,  and  that  they  are  indis 
pensable  to  success,  and  yet  when  they  die,  or  are  discharged 
for  cause,  private  soldiers  take  their  place  and  become  bet 
ter  officers  than  they  did,  until  they  in  turn  become  spoiled. 
I  can  think  of  no  position  better  calculated  to  ruin  a  young 
man  than  to  commission  him  in  a  cavalry  regiment.  Now 
take  my  advice.  Do  not  run  in  debt  for  a  new  uniform 
and  a  silver  mounted  sword,  and  don't  put  a  stock  of  whisky 
and  cigars  into  your  tent,  and  keep  open  house,  because 
when  your  whisky  and  cigars  are  gone,  those  who  drank 
and  smoked  them  will  not  think  as  much  of  you  as  before, 
and  you  will  have  formed  habits  that  will  illy  prepare  you 
for  your  work.  You  will  not  make  any  friends  among 
good  officers,  and  you  will  lose  the  respect  of  the  men  who 
have  known  you  when  you  were  one  of  them,  but  who  will 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION. 

laugh  at  you  for  getting  the  big  head  and  going  back  on 
those  who  are  just  as  good  as  you  are,  but  who  have  not 
yet  attained  the  dignity  of  wearing  shoulder  straps.  I 
meet  officers  every  day,  who  were  good  soldiers  before  they 
were  raised  from  privates,  and  they  show  signs  of  dissipa 
tion,  and  have  a  hard  look,  leering  at  women,  and  trying 
to  look  blase.  They  try  to  act  as  near  like  foreign  noble 
men  who  are  officers,  as  they  can,  from  reading  of  their 
antics,  but  Americans  just  from  farms,  workshops,  com 
mercial  pursuits,  and  the  back  woods  and  country  villages 
of  the  north,  are  not  of  the  material  that  foreign  officials 
are  made  of,  and  in  trying  to  imitate  them  they  only  show 
their  shallowness.  Do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  change  one  par 
ticle  from  what  you  have  been  as  a  private  soldier,  unless 
it  is  to  have  your  pants  fit  better,  and  wear  a  collar.  Of 
course,  you  will  be  thrown  among  officers  more  than  you 
have  before.  Imitate  their  better  qualities,  and  do  not 
compete  with  them  in  vices.  Always  remember  that  when 
a  volunteer  army  is  mustered  out,  all  are  alike.  The  pri 
vate,  who  has  business  ability,  will  become  rich  and  re 
spected,  after  the  war,  while  the  officer,  who  has  been 
promoted  through  favoritism,  and  who  acquires  bad  habits, 
will  keep  going  down  hill,  and  will  be  glad  to  drive  a  de 
livery  wagon  for  the  successful  private,  whom  he  com 
manded  and  snubbed  when  he  held  a  proud  position  and 
^ot  the  big  head.  Now,  my  convalescent  red-headed 
yankee,  you  have  the  best  advice,  I  know  how  to  give  a 
young  man  who  has  struck  a  streak  of  luck.  Go  back  to 
your  friends,  and  may  God  bless  you." 

Well,  I  l\ad  never  had  any  such  advice  as  that  before, 
and  as  Jim  and  me  rode  back  to  camp  that  Thanksgiving 


816  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  FECK 

evening,  her  words  seemed  to  burn  into  my  alleged  brain. 
I  could  see  how  easy  it  would  be  •  for  a  fellow  to  make  a 
spectacle  of  himself.  What  did  a  commission  amount  to, 
anyway,  that  a  fellow  should  feel  above  anybody.  When 
we  arrived  in  camp,  and  went  into  our  tent  to  have  a  smoke, 
the  chaplain  came  in.  I  had  not  seen  much  of  him  lately. 
When  I  was  sick  I  felt  the  need  of  a  chaplain  considerably. 
Not  that  I  cared  particularly  to  have  him  come  and  set  up 
a  howl  over  me,  as  though  I  was  going  to  die,  and  he  was 
expected  to  steer  me  the  right  way.  But  I  felt  as  though 
it  was  his  duty  to  look  after  the  boys  when  they  were  sick, 
and  talk  to  them  about  something  cheerful.  But  he  did 
not  show  up  when  I  needed  him,  and  when  he  called  at  our 
tent  after  I  was  well,  there  wasn't  that  cordiality  on  my 
part  that  there  ought  to  have  been.  He  had  a  package 
which  he  unrolled,  after  congratulating  me  on  my  recov 
ery,  and  it  proved  to  be  a  new  saber,  with  silver  mounted 
scabbard  and  gold  sword  handle.  The  chaplain  said  he 
had  heard  that  I  was  to  be  commissioned,  and  he  had 
found  that  saber  at  a  store  down  town,  and  thought  I 
might  want  to  buy  it.  He  said  of  course  I  would  not  want 
to  wear  a  common  government  saber,  as  it  would  look  too 
rude.  He  said  he  could  get  that  saber  for  forty  dollars, 
dirt  cheap,  and  I  could  pay  for  it  when  I  got  my  first  pay 
as  an  officer.  I  could  see  through  the  chaplain  in  a  min 
ute.  He  had  thought  I  would  jump  at  the  chance  to  put 
on  style,  and  that  he  could  make  ten  or  fifteen  dollars  sell 
ing  me  a  gilt-edged  saber.  I  thanked  him  warmly,  and  a 
little  sarcastically,  for  his  great  interest  in  the  welfare  of 
my  soul,  in  sickness  and  in  health,  but  told  him  that  I  was 
going  to  try  and  pull  through  with  a  conynon  private's 


FU*    %0\YK  THE  REBELLION". 

saber.  I  told  him  that  the  few  people  I  should  kill  with  a 
saber,  would  enjoy  it  just  as  well  to  be  run  through  with  a 
cemmon  saber.  My  only  object  was  to  help  put  down  the 
rebellion,  and  I  could  do  it  with  ordinary  plain  cutlery,  as 
well  as  silver-mounted  trappings.  I  said  that  to  smear  a 
silver-mounted  saber  all  over  with  gore,  would  spoil  the 
looks  of  it.  The  chaplain  went  out,  when  a  drummer  for  a 
tailor  shop  came  in  with  some  samples,  and  wanted  to  make 
up  a  new  uniform  for  me,  regardless  of  expense.  I  stood 
him  off,  and  went  to  bed,  tired,  and  thought  I  had  rather 
be  a  private  than  a  general.  The  next  morning  it  was  my 
turn  to  cook  our  breakfast,  and  I  turned  out  and  built  a  fire, 
cut  off  some  salt  pork,  and  was  frying  it,  when  the  orderly 
sergeant  came  along  and  detailed  Jim  and  me,  with  ten  or 
a  dozen  others  to  go  to  work  on  the  fortifications.  The 
rebels  were  preparing  to  attack  our  position,  and  the  com* 
manding  officer  had  deemed  it  advisable  to  throw  up  some 
earthworks.  I  told  the  orderly  that  he  couldn't  detail  me 
to  work  with  a  shovel,  digging  trenches,  when  I  was  an 
officer,  but  he  said  he  could,  until  I  received  my  commis 
sion  and  was  mustered  in.  I  left  my  cooking  and  went  to 
the  colonel's  tent.  He  was  just  rolling  out  of  his  bunk, 
and  I  said : 

"  How  is  it,  Colonel  ?  Can  an  officer  be  detailed  to  go 
and  shovel  dirt  ?  I  have  been  detailed  by  the  orderly,  with 
a  lot  of  privates,  to  report  to  the  engineer,  to  throw  up 
fortifications.  That  does  not  strike  me  as  proper  work  for 
a  commissioned  officer." 

"  You  will  have  to  go,"  said  the  colonel,  as  he  stood  on 
one  leg  whf le  he  tried  to  lasso  his  other  foot  with  a  pants 
lag.  "It  nay  be  three  months  before  your  comraission 


218  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PEJK 

will  arrive,  and  then  you  will  have  to  go  to  New  Orleans 
to  be  mustered  out  as  a  private  and  mustered  in  as  an  of 
ficer.  Until  that  time  you  will  have  to  do  duty  as  a  pri 
vate." 

"  Then  what  the  devil  did  you  say  anything  about  my 
being  commissioned  for,  until  the  commission  got  here," 
said  I,  and  I  went  back  and  finished  cooking  breakfast  for 
myself  and  Jim. 

Our  detail  went  down  to  the  river,  at  the  left  of  the  line, 
and  reported  to  the  engineer,  and  were  set  to  work  cutting 
down  trees,  throwing  up  dirt,  and  doing  about  the  dirtiest 
and  hardest  work  that  I  had  ever  done.  As  a  private  I  could 
have  done  anything  that  was  asked  of  me,  but  the  thought 
of  doing  such  work,  while  all  the  boys  were  calling  me 
"Lieutenant,"  was  too  much.  I  never  was  so  crushed  in 
my  life.  How  glad  I  was  that  I  did  not  buy  that  gilt-edged 
saber  of  the  chaplain.  We  had  to  wear  our  side  arms 
while  at  work,  fearing  an  attack  at  any  minute,  and  I 
thought  how  ridiculous  I  would  have  looked  with  that 
silver-mounted  saber  hanging  to  me,  while  I  was  handling 
a  shovel  like  a  railroad  laborer.  If  that  detail  was  made 
to  humiliate  me,  and  reduce  my  proud  flesh,  that  had  ap 
peared  on  me  by  my  sudden  promotion,  it  had  the  desired 
effect,  for  before  night  I  was  as  humble  an  amateur  officer 
as  ever  lived.  I  had  chopped  down  trees  until  my  hands 
were  blistered,  and  had  shoveled  dirt  until  my  back  was 
broke,  aud  at  night  returned  to  my  tent  too  tired  to  eat 
supper,  and  went  to  bed  too  weary  and  disgusted  to  sleep. 
And  that  was  my  first  day  as  a  commissioned  officer. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBL'LLIOHo 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

MY  SICKNESS  AND  HOSPITAL  EXPERIENCES  HAVE  SPOILED  ME  FOB 
A  SOLDIER — I  AM  FULL  OP  CHARITY,  AND  HOPE  THE  WAR 
WILL  CEASE  — WE  HAVE  A  GRAND  ATTACK— THE  BATTLE 
LASTED  TEN  MINUTES— THE  REBEL  ANGEL'S  BROTHER  is  CAP 
TURED. 

I  became  satisfied,  more  each  day,  that  my  sickness, 
and  experience  in  the  hospital,  had  spoiled  me  for  a  sol 
dier.  Being  attended  to  so  kindly  by  a  rebel  girl  and  getting 
acquainted  with  her  people,  and  hearing  her  mother  pray 
earnestly  that  the  bloodshed  might  cease,  sort  of  knocked 
what  little  fight  there  was  in  me,  out,  and  I  didn't  hanker 
any  more  for  blood.  It  seemed  to  me  as  though  I  could 
meet  any  rebel  on  top  of  earth,  and  shake  hands  with  him, 
and  ask  him  to  share  my  tent,  and  help  eat  my  rations. 
The  fact  of  being  promoted  to  a  commissioned  office,  didn't 
make  me  feel  half  as  good  as  I  thought  it  was  going  to, 
and  I  found  myself  wishing  I  could  be  a  he  sister  of  charity, 
or  something  that  did  not  have  to  shoot  a  gun,  or  go  into 
any  fight.  I  got  so  I  didn't  care  whether  my  commission 
ever  arrived  or  not.  The  idea  of  respectable  men  going 
out  to  hunt  each  other,  like  game,  became  ridiculous  to 
me,  and  I  wondered  why  the  statesmen  of  the  North  and 
South  did  not  get  together  and  agree  on  some  sort  of  a 
compromise,  and  have  the  fighting  stop.  I  would  have 
agreed  to  anything,  only,  of  course,  whatever  arrangement 
was  made,  it  must  be  understood  that  the  South  had  no 
right  to  secede.  Then  I  would  think,  "  Why,  that  is  all 


220  HOW  PKIVATE  GEOKGE  W.  PECK 

the  South  is  fighting  for,  and  if  they  concede  that  they  are 
wrong  it  is  the  same  as  though  they  were  whipped,  and  of 
course  they  could  not  agree  to  that."  I  tried  to  think  out 
lots  of  ways  to  wind  the  business  up  without  fighting  any 
more,  but  a\l  the  plans  I  made,  maintained  that  our  side 
was  right,  and  I  concluded  to  give  up  worrying  about  it. 
But  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  not  fight  any  more. 
I  was  still  weak  from  sickness,  and  there  was  no  fight  in 
me.  I  thought  this  over  a  good  deal,  and  concluded  that 
if  I  was  called  upon  to  go  into  another  fight,  where  there 
was  any  chance  of  anybody  being  killed,  I  would  just  have 
a  relapse,  and  go  to  the  hospital  again  till  it  was  over.  I 
had  heard  of  fellows  being  taken  suddenly  ill  when  a  fight 
was  in  prospect,  and  I  knew  they  were  always  laughed  at, 
but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  had  rather  be  laughed  at 
than  to  hurt  anybody.  There  was  no  thought  of  sneaking 
out  of  a  fight  because  of  the  danger  of  being  killed  myself, 
but  I  just  didn't  want  to  shoot  any  friends  of  that  girl  who 
had  nursed  me  when  I  was  sick.  These  thoughts  kept 
coming  to  me  for  a  week  or  more,  and  one  evening  it  was 
rumored  around  that  we  were  liable  to  be  attacked  the  next 
day.  Some  of  our  regiments  had  been  out  all  day,  and 
they  reported  the  enemy  marching  on  our  position,  in 
force.  The  rebels  that  lived  in  town  could  not  conceal 
their  joy  at  the  idea  that  we  were  to  be  cleaned  out.  They 
would  hint  that  there  were  erough  Confederates  concen 
trating  at  that  -point  to  drive  every  Yankee  into  the  river, 
and  they  were  actually  preparing  bandages  and  lint,  to  take 
care  of  the  Confederates  who  might  be  wounded.  If  we 
had  taken  their  word  for  it  there  wouldn't  be  a  Yankee 
lert  in  town,  when  the  Confederate  boys  begun  to  get  in 


PUT  DOWN  THE  KEBELLIOtf.  221 

their  work.  I  went  to  bed  that  night  resolved  that  I 
should  not  be  so  well  in  the  morning,,  and  would  go  to  sur 
geon's  call,  and  be  sent  to  the  hospital.  But  I  didn't  like 
the  way  those  rebels  talked  about  the  coming  fight.  Egad, 
if  they  were  so  sure  our  fellows  were  going  to  be  whipped, 
may  be  I  would  stay  and  see  about  it.  If  they  thought  an} 
of  our  fellows  were  going  to  slink  out,  when  they  made 
their  brags  about  whipping  us,  they  would  find  their  mis 
take.  However,  if  I  didn't  feel  very  well  in  the  morning, 
I  would  go  to  surgeon's  call,  but  I  wouldn't  go  to  the  hos 
pital.  In  the  meantime,  I  would  just  see  if  I  had  cart 
ridges  enough  for  much  of  a  row,  and  rub  up  the  old  car 
bine  a  little,  for  luck.  Not  that  I  wanted  to  shoot  any 
body  dead,  but  I  could  shoot  their  horses,  and  make  the 
blasted  rebels  walk,  anyway.  And  so  all  that  evening  I 
was  part  of  the  time  trying  to  see  my  way  clear  to  get  out 
of  a  regular  fight,  where  anybody  would  be  liable  to  get 
hurt,  and  again  I  was  wondering  if  my  sickness  had  injured 
my  eyesight  so  I  couldn't  take  good  aim  at  the  buttons  on 
a  rebel's  coat.  I  was  about  half  and  half.  If  the  rebels 
would  let  us  alone,  and  not  bring  on  a  disturbance,  I  was 
for  peace  at  any  price,  but  gol-blast  them,  if  they  come 
fooling  around  trying  to  scare  anybody,  I  wouldn't  go  to  a 
hospital,  not  much.  I  talked  with  Jim  about  it,  and  he 
felt  about  as  I  did.  He  didn't  want  any  more  fighting, 
and  while  he  couldn't  go  to  the  hospital,  he  was  going  to 
try  and  get  detailed  to  drive  a  six  mule  team  for  the 
quartermaster,  but  he  cleaned  up  his  gun  all  the  same, 
and  looked  over  his  cartridges  to  see  if  they  were  all  right. 
We  got  up  next  morning,  got  our  breakfast,  and  Jim 
asked  me  if  I  was  going  to  the  hospital  and  I  told  him  I 


222  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE   W.  PECK 

would  wait  till  afternoon.  I  asked  him  if  he  was  going  to 
drive  mules,  and  he  said  not  a  condemned  mule,  not  until 
the  fight  was  over.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  riding  around, 
orderlies,  staff  officers,  etc.  Artillery  was  moving  around, 
and  about  eight  o'clock  some  of  our  boys  who  had  been  on 
picket  all  night,  came  in  looking  tired  and  nervous,  saying 
they  had  been  shot  at  all  night,  and  that  the  rebels  had  got 
artillery  and  infantry  till  you  couldn't  rest,  and  they  would 
make  it  mighty  warm  for  us  before  night.  Orders  come  to 
each  company,  that  no  soldier  was  to  leave  camp  under  any 
circumstances,  to  go  to  town  or  anywhere.  I  told  Jim  if 
he  was  going  to  drive  mules,  he  better  be  seeing  the  quar 
termaster  sergeant,  but  he  said  he  never  was  much  gone  on 
mule  driving,  anyhow.  But  he  said  if  he  looked  as  sick  as 
I  did  he  would  go  to  the  hospital  too  quick.  I  told  him 
there  wasn't  anything  the  matter  with  me.  Pretty  soon, 
over  to  the  right,  near  the  river,  there  was  a  cannon  dis 
charged.  It  was  not  long  before  another  went  off  around 
to  the  left,  and  then  a  dozen,  twenty,  a  hundred,  all  along 
the  line.  They  were  rebel  cannon,  and  pretty  soon  they 
were  answered  by  our  batteries.  Then  there  was  a  rattling 
of  infantry,  and  the  noise  was  deafening.  I  expected  at 
the  first  fire  that  our  bugler  would  come  out  in  front  of 
headquarters  and  blow  for  heaven's  sake,  for  us  to  saddle 
up,  but  for  three  hours  we  loafed  around  camp  and  no 
move  was  made.  It  was  tiresome.  We  started  to  play 
cards  several  times,  but  nobody  could  remember  what  was 
trumps,  and  we  gave  that  up.  Some  of  our  boys  would 
sneak  up  on  to  a  hill  for  a  few  minutes,  against  orders,  and 
come  back  and  say  that  they  could  see  the  fight,  and  it  was 
which  and  tpther.  Then  a  few  more  would  sneak  off,  and 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION. 

after  awhile  the  whole  regiment  was  up  on  the  hill,  looking 
>ff  to  the  hills  and  valleys,  watching  rebel  shells  strike  our 
earth  works  and  throw  up  the  dust,  and  watching  our 
shells  go  over  to  the  woods  where  the  rebels  were.  Then  I 
found  myself  hoping  our  shells  were  just  paralyzing  the 
Johnnies.  Presently  the  ambulances  began  to  come  by  us, 
loaded  with  wounded,  and  that  settled  it.  When  there  was 
no  fighting,  and  I  was  half  sick,  and  felt  under  obligations 
to  a  Confederate  girl  for  taking  care  of  me,  I  didn't  want 
any  of  her  friends  hurt,  but  when  her  friends  forgot  them 
selves,  and  come  to  a  peaceable  place,  and  began  to  kill  off 
our  boys,  friendship  ceased,  and  I  wondered  why  we  didn't 
get  orders  to  saddle  up  and  go  in.  We  were  all  on  the  hill 
watching  things,  when  the  colonel,  who  had  been  riding 
off  somewhere,  came  along.  We  thought  he  would  order 
us  all  under  arrest  for  disobeying  orders,  but  he  rode  up  to 
us,  and  pointing  to  a  place  off  to  the  right  a  mile  or  so, 
where  there  was  a  sharp  infantry  fight,  he  said,  "  Boys,  we 
shall  probably  go  in  right  there  about  3  P.M.,  unless  the 
rebels  are  reinforced,"  and  he  rode  down  to  his  tent.  Well, 
after  about  twenty  ambulances  had  gone  by  us  with 
wounded  soldiers,  we  didn't  care  how  soon  we  went  in 
there.  We  watched  the  infantry  and  artillery  for  another 
nour,  as  pretty  a  sight  as  one  often  sees.  It  was  so  far 
away  we  could  not  see  men  fall,  and  it  was  more  like  a  cel 
ebration,  until  one  got  near  enough  to  see  the  dead.  Pres 
ently  the  regimental  bugle  sounded  <e  Boots  and  saddles," 
and  in  a  minute  every  man  on  the  hill  had  rushed  down  to 
his  tent,  even  before  the  notes  had  died  away  from  the 
bugle.  Nothing  was  out  of  place.  Every  soldier  had 
known  that  *he  bugle  would  sound  sooner  or  later,  and  we 


224  HOW  PKIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

iiad  everything  ready.  It  did  not  seem  five  minutes  before 
every  company  was  mounted,  in  its  street,  waiting  for 
orders.  Jim  leaned  over  towards  me  and  said,  "  Hospital?  " 
and  I  answered,  "  Not  if  I  know  myself/'  and  I  patted  my 
carbine  on  the  stock.  I  said  to  him,  "  Six  mule  team  ?  " 
and  he  whispered  back,  "  Nary  six  mule  team  for  the  old 
man."  Then  the  bugle  sounded  the  "Assembly,"  and 
each  company  rode  up  on  to  the  hill  and  formed  in  regi 
mental  front  facing  the  battle.  Every  eye  was  on  the  place 
where  the  colonel  had  said  we  would  probably  "go  in." 
There  never  was  a  more  beautiful  sight,  and  every  man  in 
the  cavalry  regiment  looked  at  it  till  his  eyes  ached.  Then 
came  an  order  to  dismount  and  every  man  was  ordered  to 
tighten  up  his  saddle  girth  as  tight  as  the  horse  would  bear 
it,  and  be  sure  his  stirrup  straps  were  too  short  rather  than 
too  long.  To  a  cavalry  man  these  orders  mean  business. 

Then  we  mounted  again,  and  a  few  noticed  a  flag  off 
co  the  right  signaling.  The  colonel  noticed  it  and  coolly 
gave  the  order,  "fours  right,  march."  We  went  off  to 
wards  the  fighting,  then  right  down  by  our  own  cannon 
and  formed  in  line  behind  the  infantry,  that  was  at  work 
with  the  enemy,  the  artillery  firing  over  our  heads  at  the 
confederates  in  the  woods.  The  noise  was  so  loud  that  one 
could  not  hear  his  neighbor  speak;  but  above  it  all  came 
a  buggle  note,  and  glancing  to  the  left,  another  cavalry 
regiment,  and  another,  formed  on  our  left.  Another  bugle 
note,  and  to  the  right  another  cavalry  regiment  formed, 
and  for  half  a  mile  there  was  a  line  of  horsemen,  deafened 
by  the  noise,  waiting  the  command  of  some  man,  through 
$  bugle.  If  the  rebels  had  time  to  notice  those  four  regi 
ments  of  cavalry,  fresh  and  ready  for  a  gallop,  they  must 


PUT  DOWN  THE  BEBELLKXN".  225 

have  known  that  it  was  a  good  time  to  get  away.  Finally, 
our  artillery  ceased  firing  and  it  seemed  still  as  death, 
except  for  the  rattling  of  infantry  in  front  of  us.  The 
rebel  artillery  had  ceased  firing  also,  and  a  great  dust  be 
yond  the  woods  showed  that  they  were  getting  away. 
The  bugle  sounded  "forward"  and  that  line  of  cavalry 
started  on  a  walk.  The  infantry  in  front  ceased  firing, 
and  went  to  the  right  of  us  at  a  double-quick,  and  the 
field  was  clear  of  our  men.  While  our  cavalry  was  walk 
ing,  they  kept  a  pretty  good  line,  each  man  glancing  to 
the  right  for  a  guide.  As  we  neared  the  place  where  our 
infantry  had  been  stationed,  it  was  necessary  to  break  up 
a  little  to  pass  dead  and  wounded  without  riding  over 
them,  and  when  falling  back  to  keep  from  hurting  a 
wounded  comrade,  a  look  at  the  line  up  and  down  showed 
that  it  was  almost  a  mob,  with  no  shape,  but  after  get- 
ing  forty  rods,  we  passed  the  field  where  men  had  fallen, 
and  the  order  to  "close  up,  guide  right,"  was  given,  and 
in  an  instant  the  line  was  perfect.  Then  came  the  order 
to  trot,  and  we  went  a  short  distance,  until  the  rebels 
could  be  plainly  seen  behind  trees,  logs,  and  in  line,  firing. 
We  halted  and  fired  a  few  rounds  from  carbines,  and  then 
dropped  the  carbines,  on  orders.  For  a  moment  nothing 
was  done,  when  officers  ordered  every  man  to  draw  his  re 
volver,  and  when  the  six  charges  had  been  fired,  after  near- 
ing  the  enemy,  to  drop  the  revolver  in  the  holster,  and 
draw  sabers,  and  every  man  for  himself,  but  to  rally  on 
the  colors,  at  the  sound  of  the  bugle,  and  not  to  go  too  far. 
Talk  about  being  sick,  and  going  to  the  hospital,  or  driving 
mules!  Coward  as  I  was,  and  I  knew  it,  there  was  some 
thing  about  the  air  that  made  me  feel  that  I  wouldn't  be 


226  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE   W,   PECK 

in  the  hospital  that  day  for  all  the  money  in  the  world. 
All  idea  of  being  sorry  for  the  enemy,  all  charity,  all  hope 
that  the  war  might  close  before  any  more  men  were  killed, 
was  gone.  After  looking  in  the  upturned  faces  of  our 
dead  and  wounded  on  the  field,  the  more  of  the  enemy 
that  were  killed  the  better.  It  is  thus  that  war  makes  men 
brutal,  while  in  active  service.  They  think  of  things  and 
do  things  that  they  regret  immediately  after  the  firing 
ceases.  The  next  ten  minutes  was  the  nearest  thing  to  hell 
that  I  ever  experienced,  and  it  seemed  as  though  my  face 
must  look  like  that  of  a  fiend.  I  felt  like  one.  The  bugle 
sounded  "forward,"  and  then  there  was  an  order  to  trot, 
and  the  revolver  firing  began,  with  the  enemy  so  near  that 
you  could  see  their  countenances,  their  eyes.  Some  of 
them  were  mounted,  others  were  on  foot,  some  on  artil 
lery  caissons,  and  all  full  of  fight.  It  did  not  take  long  to 
exhaust  the  revolvers,  and  then  the  sabers  began  to  come 
out,  and  the  horrible  word  "charge,"  came  from  a  thou 
sand  throats,  and  every  soldier  yelled  like  a  Comanche 
!Vidian,  the  line  spread  out  like  a  fan,  and  every  soldier  on 
L'^  O\VM  hook.  Sabers  whacked,  horses  run,  everybody 
ye. Ned.  Men  said  "I  surrender,"  "What  you  jabbing  at 
me  lor  when  I  ain't  fighting  no  moah,"  "Drop  that  gun, 
you  Johnnie,  and  go  to  the  rear."  Cries  of  pain  and 
anguish,  and  awful  sounds  that  a  man  ought  never  to  hear 
but  once.  The  business  was  all  done  in  ten  minutes. 

Many  of  our  men  were  killed  and  wounded,  and  many 
of  theirs  were  treated  the  same  way.  Those  who  could  get 
away,  got,  and  those  we  passed  without  happening  to  hit 
them,  were  prisoners,  because  the  infantry  followed  and 
took  them  back  to  the  rear.  Jim  and  me  stayed  as  near 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  227 

together  as  possible,  and  we  noticed  one  young  Confederate 
on  a  mule.  His  left  arm  was  hanging  limp  by  his  side, 
and  as  Jim  passed  on  one  side  of  him  and  I  on  the  other^ 
he  said,  as  he  held  up  his  right  hand,  "  I  dun  got  enough, 
and  I  surrender/'  The  thing  was  about  over,  the  bugle 
having  sounded  the  ''recall/'  and  we  turned  and  went 
back  with  this  Confederate.  He  was  as  handsome  a  boy 
as  ever  fired  a  gun,  and  while  he  was  pale  from  his  shat 
tered  left  "arm,  and  weak,  he  said,  "You  gentlemen  are 
all  fine  riders,  sir.  You  fought  as  well  as  Southern  men, 
sir/'  That  was  a  compliment  that  Jim  and  me  acknow 
ledged  on  behalf  of  the  northern  army.  He  couldn't  have 
paid  our  regiment  a  higher  compliment  if  he  had  studied 
a  week.  Then  he  said:  " I  was  a  fool  to  be  in  this  fight. 
I  was  a  prisoner  and  was  only  exchanged  last  week.  I 
I  might  have  remained  at  home  on  a  furlough,  but  when 
our  army  came  along  yesterday,  and  the  boys  said  there 
was  going  to  be  a  fight,  I  took  my  sisters  mule,  the  only 
animal  on  the  place,  and  came  along,  and  now  I  am  a 
cripple."  I  looked  at  the  mule,  and  I  said  to  Jim,  in  a 
whisper,  ' '  I  hope  to  die  if  it  isn't  the  angel's  mule.  That 
must  be  her  brother."  Jim  was  going  to  ask  him  what  his 
name  was,  when  we  neared  the  place,  where  our  regiment 
was  forming  and  the  surgeon  of  our  regiment  came  along, 
and  I  said,  "  Doc,  I  wish  you  would  take  this  young  fellow 
and  fix  up  his  arm  nice.  He  is  a  friend  of  mine.  Take 
him  to  our  regimental  hospital/'  Then  we  went  back  to 
the  regiment,  the  prisoners  were  taken  away,  and  after 
marching  around  through  the  woods  for  an  hour  we  rode 
back  to  our  camp,  and  the  battle  was  over.  Two  or  three 
hours  later  I  went  over  to  the  regimental  hospital  and 


228  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOflGE   W.  PECK 

found  the  black-eyed  confederate  with  his  arm  dressed,  and 
he  was  talking  with  our  boys  as  though  he  belonged  there. 
Some  one  asked  how  he  happened  to  be  there.,  and  the  old 
doctor  eroid  he  believed  he  was  a  relative  of  one  of  our  offi 
cers.  Anyway  he  was  going  to  stay  there.  I  gave  him  a 
bunch  of  sutler  cigars,  and  left  him,  and  an  hour  later 
the  "angel"  showed  up,  pale  as  death,  and  wanted  some 
one  to  go  with  her  to  the  battle  field  to  help  find  the  body 
of  her  dead  brother.  She  said  he  had  arrived  home  from 
the  North  the  morning  before,  and  had  gone  into  the  fight, 
and  when  the  Confederates  came  back,  defeated,  past  their 
plantation,  her  brother  was  not  among  them,  and  she  knew 
he  was  dead.  I  have  done  a  great  many  things  in  my  life 
that  have  given  me  pleasure,  but  no  one  that  I  remember 
of  that  made  me  quite  so  happy  as  I  was  to  escort  the  girl 
who  had  been  so  kind  to  me,  to  the  hospital  where  her 
brother  was.  His  wound  was  not  serious,  and  he  sat  on  a 
box,  smoking  a  cigar,  telling  the  boys  the  news  from  Wis 
consin.  He  had  just  come  from  there,  where  he  was  a 
prisoner,  and  he  couldn't  talk  enough  about  the  kindness 
of  the  "people  of  the  nowth."  His  sister  almost  fainted 
when  she  found  him  alive,  then  hugged  him  until  I  was 
afraid  she  would  disturb  his  arm,  and  then  she  sat  by  him 
and  heard  him  tell  of  his  visit  to  Wisconsin.  Before  night 
he  was  allowed  to  go  home  with  his  sister  on  parole,  and 
Jim  and  I  were  detailed  to  go  and  help  bury  the  dead  of 
the  regiment. 


DOW/N:  THE  REBELLIOH.  £29 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

I  AM  DETAILED  TO  DRIVE  A  SIX-MULE  TEAM— I  AM  COVERED 

RED  MUD — I  AM  SENT  ON  AN  EXPEDITION  OF  COLD-BLOODED 
MURDER — I  MAKE  A  DOZEN  EX-CONFEDERATE  SOLDIERS  HAPPY 
BY  SETTING  THEM  UP  IN  BUSINESS. 

After  the  battle  alluded  to  in  my  last  chapter,  it  took 
us  a  week  or  more  to  get  brushed  up,  the  dead  buried, 
and  everything  ready  to  go  to  living  again.  A  battle 
to  a  regiment  in  the  field  is  a  good  deal  like  a  funeral  in 
a  family  at  home.  When  a  member  of  a  family  is  sick 
unto  death,  all  looks  dark,  and  when  the  sick  person  dies 
it  seems  as  though  the  world  could  never  look  bright  again. 
Every  time  the  relatives  and  friends  look  at  any  article  be 
longing  to  a  deceased  friend,  the  agony  comes  back,  and  it 
is  quite  a  while  before  there  is  any  brightness  anywhere, 
but  in  time  the  tear-stained  faces  become  smiling,  the  lost 
friend  is  thought  of  only  occasionally,  and  the  world  moves 
along  just  the  same0  So  in  the  army.  For  a  few  days  the 
thought  of  comrades  being  gone  forever,  was  painful,  and 
no  man  wanted  to  ride  the  horse  whose  owner  had  been 
killed,  but  within  a  week  the  feeling  was  all  ;gone,  and  if  a 
horse  was  a  good  one  he  didn't  stay  in  the  corral  very  long 
on  account  of  some  good  fellow  having  been  shot  off  his 
back.  The  boys  who  couldn't  remember  what  was  trumps 
on  the  day  of  the  battle — (and  a  soldier  has  got  to  be 
greatly  interested  in  something  else  to  forget  what  is 
trumps)  returned  to  their  card-playing,  and  no  one  would 
know,  to  look  at  them,  that  they  had  passed  through  a 


230  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

pretty  serious  scare,  and  seen  their  comrades  fall  all  around.  „ 
We  told  stories  of  our  experience  in  the  army  and  at  home, 
and  entertained  each  other.  I  couldn't  tell  much,  except 
what  a  good  shot  I  was  with  a  shotgun  and  rifle,  and  I  told 
some  marvelous  stories  about  hitting  the  bull's  eye.  It  got 
to  be  tiresome  waiting  around  for  my  commission  to  arrive, 
and  I  did  not  quite  enjoy  being  a  commissioned  high  pri 
vate.  Everybody  knew  I  had  been  recommended  for  a 
commission,  aad  they  all  called  me  "  Lieutenant/'  but  all 
the  same  I  was  doing  duty  as  a  private.  For  two  or  three 
days  I  was  detailed  to  drive  mules  for  the  quartermaster, 
and  that  was  the  worst  service  I  ever  did  perform.  It 
seemed  as  though  the  colonel  wanted  to  prepare  me  for 
any  service  that  in  the  nature  of  things  I  was  liable  to  be 
called  upon  to  perform.  I  kicked  some  at  being  detailed 
to  drive  a  six-mule  team,  but  the  colonel  said  I  might  see 
the  time  when  I  could  save  the  government  a  million  dol 
lars  by  being  able  to  jump  on  to  a  wheel  mule  and  drive  a 
wagon  loaded  with  ammunition,  or  paymaster's  cash,  out 
of  danger  of  being  captured  by  the  enemy.  So  I  went  to 
work  and  learned  to  "gee-haw"  a  six-mule  team  of  the 
stubbornest  mules  in  the  world,  hauling  bacon,  but  there 
was  no  romance  in  taking  care  of  six  mules  that  would 
kick  so  you  had  to  put  the  harness  on  them  with  a  pitch 
fork,  for  fear  of  having  your  head  kicked  off.  If  I  ever 
get  a  pension  it  will  be  for  my  loss  of  character  and  temper 
in  driving  those  mules.  I  have  been  in  some  dangerous 
places,  but  I  was  never  in  so  dangerous  a  place,  in  battle, 
as  I  was  one  day  while  driving  those  mules.  One  of  the 
lead  mules  got  his  forward  foot  over  the  bridle  some  way, 
and  I  went  to  fix  it,  and  the  team  started  and  "straddled* 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  231 

me.  As  soon  as  I  saw  that  I  was  between  the  two  lead 
mules,  and  that  the  team  had  started,  I  knew  my  only 
safety  was  in  laying  down  and  taking  the  chances  of  the 
three  pairs  of  mules  and  wagon  going  straight  over  me. 
To  attempt  to  get  out  would  mix  them  all  up,  so  I  fell 
right  down  in  the  mud,  which  was  about  a  foot  deep,  and 
just  like  soft  mortar.  As  the  mules  passed  on  each  side  of 
me,  every  last  one  of  them  kicked  at  me,  and  I  was  under 
the  impression  that  each  wheel  of  the  wagon  kicked  at  me, 
but  I  escaped  everything  except  the  mud,  and  when  I  got 
up  on  my  feet  behind  the  wagon,  the  quartermaster,  who 
was  ahead  on  horseback,  had  stopped  the  team.  He  called 
a  colored  man  to  drive,  and  told  me  I  could  go  back  to 
the  regiment.  I  tried  to  sneak  in  the  back  way,  and  not 
see  anybody,  but  when  I  passed  the  chaplain's  tent  a  lot  of 
officers,  who  had  been  sampling  his  sanitary  stores,  come 
out,  and  one  of  them  recognized  me,  and  they  insisted  on 
my  stopping  and  taking  something  with  them.  Honestly, 
there  was  not  an  inch  of  my  clothing  but  was  covered 
with  red  mud,  that  every  soldier  remembers  who  has  been 
through  Alabama.  They  had  fun  with  me  for  half  an  hour 
and  then  let  me  go.  I  have  never  been  able  to  look  at  a 
nule  since,  without  a  desire  to  kill  it. 

I  had  said  so  much  about  my  marksmanship  with  a 
rifle,  that  one  day  I  was  sent  for  by  the  colonel.  He  said 
he  had  heard  I  was  a  crack  shot  with  the  rifle,  and  I  ad 
mitted  that  I  \\'as  a  pretty  good  shot.  He  asked  me  if  I 
could  hit  a  man's  eye  every  time  at  ten  paces.  I  told  him 
I  was  almost  sure.  I  could.  He  said  he  had  a  duty  that 
must  be  performed  by  some  man  that  was  an  excellent  shot, 
and  I  might  report  at  once  with  forty  rounds  of  ammu- 


Hi 


nitioi*  '^r-n  any  more  tUrtled 

than  I  wa«  At  the  <:<.;  •  manner. 

i 

rat«'ly 
aimed  At  ;i  :'  there  WM  anybody  to  tx- 

*eem*d  M 

though   I 

WA*  i 

'.«•«•  1  1    tr«-rtt«»tl  bn 
Uw  tnemy.     I  report^'!  .  f«rty 

."  away,  and 

. 

-it  there  were  *t« 

bOped  th«ty  WOUlcl     auffrr    if  If     I    COUld 

hn?«  hn<l  my  WA  iv«  gone  ••trji.     I  r«-- 

he  colonel's  : 
why  I  WM  |  «•  tad  e?< 

' 

ilw«yi  A  aid  thing." 

. 

>ok  a  chew  of  na?y  j.h. 
banco,  "whrn  dmth  U  neee«aary(  we  ahould  make 

i  hare  been  at'. 


PUT  [><>  235 

*good  deal,  and  trying  to  figure  out  how  to  make  the  death 
'he  least  painful  to  these  poor  vtct;;  :t  has  occurred 

to  me  that  if  we  place  them  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
and  you  shoot  them  through  the  hrain,  while  at  the  same 
time  I  push  them,  they  will  fall  down  a  hundred  feet  into 
•  er,  and  if  they  arc  not  killed  instantly  by  having  the 
brain  blown  out,  they  will  certainly  drown.  How  does 
that  strike  yo- 

I  thought  the  chaplain  was  about  the  most  heartless 

ever  heard  talk  about  killing  people,  but  I  said  that 

•o  be  the  test  way,  but  a  cold  chill  went  over 

body  through  the  head  and 

the  chaplain  p-  the  cliff  into  the  water.     I 

was  just  going  to  ask  him  what  th  .  when 

he  laid  : 

"Ah,  there  they  co: 

I  In  la  lot  of   colored    n:  fading  about 

forty   old    back-number  horses  an  !  afflicted  with 

glanders  and  other  diseas* 

;e  niggers  to  be  kille--1 
I  iw,"  said  the  chaplain.     "  The  h 
I  was  n  :i   my  life  as  I  was  w 

found  that  my  excellent  marksmanship  was 
on  animal  of  human  b-  :'.-it  I  did  feel  hurt. 

The  idea  of  a  brev  jualilied  to  do  dr 

daring,  h«-  lay  to  d; 

«.       Hut  I  d  iciihwl  to  do  whatever  I  had 
to  do,  well,  at  -paraticr:  for  the 

vero  brought  on1". 

then  tfcio  ones  with  sore  b;j.  uiy  of  t; 

rate  korses,  their  only  fault  being  sores  made  from  the  iad- 


234  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

dies,  and  as  it  would  take  months  to  cure  them  up,  and  as 
the  army  was  going  to  move  soon,  it  had  been  decided  to 
kill  them  rather  than  leave  them  to  fall  into  the  enemy's 
hands,  or  take  them  along  to  be  cured  on  the  march.  I 
shot  about  a  dozen  glandered  horses,  that  being  the  largest 
game  I  had  ever  killed,  and  the  bodies  fell  down  into  the 
river.  Then  there  was  a  mule  that  was  ugly,  and  it  oc 
curred  to  me  I  would  have  some  fun  with  the  chaplain. 

We  were  outsile  the  lines,  and  quite  a  number  of  men 
had  gathered  from  the  plantations,  on  hearing  the  firing, 
to  see  what  was  up.  I  suggested  to  the  chaplain  that  it 
was  a  fibame  to  kill  so  many  good  horses,  when  they  might 
be  of  use  to  some  of  the  planters,  but  he  said  they  were  all 
rebels,  and  it  was  not  the  policy  of  the  government  to  set 
them  up  in  business,  by  giving  them  horses  to  use  tilling 
crops.  I  argued  that  the  men  had  come  home  from  the 
confederate  army  —  this  was  in  1864  —  either  discharged 
for  wounds  or  disability,  or  paroled  prisoners,  and  they 
were  anxious  to  go  to  work,  but  that  they  hadn't  a  dollar, 
and  our  army  had  skinned  every  horse  and  mule  off  their 
places,  and  the  niggers  had  gone,  so  that  a  horse  would  be  a 
God-send  to  them.  But  the  chaplain  wouldn't  hear  to  it. 
The  men,  who  had  collected,  were  mostly  too  proud  to  ask 
for  a  horse  from  a  Yankee,  but  I  could  see  that  they  did 
not  like  to  see  the  animals  killed.  I  thought  if  I  could 
get  the  chaplain,  who  had  been  sent  out  to  the  execution 
as  a  sort  of  humane  society,  to  see  that  the  animals  were 
killed  easy,  to  go  back  to  camp  and  leave  me  alone  with 
the  horses,  I  could  kill  them  or  not,  as  I  chose.  They 
brought  out  the  ugly  mule  next,  and  my  idea  was  to  shoot 
the  mule  through  the  tip  of  the  ear,  while  the  chaplain 


PUT  DOWN  THE   BEBELLIOtf.  235 

stood  near  with  a  rail  to  push  it  over  the  bank,  and  maybe 
the  mule  would  flax  around  and  kick  the  chaplain  up  a 
tree,  or  scare  him  so  he  would  leave.  I  took  deliberate 
aim  at  the  mule's  ear,  told  the  chaplain  to  push  hard  with 
the  rail  so  the  corpse  would  be  sure  to  go  over  the  cliff,  and 
fired.  Well,  I  have  never  seen  such  a  scene  in  all  my  life. 
The  mule  seemed  to  squat  down,  when  the  bullet  hit  the 
top  of  his  ear,  then  he  brayed  so  loud  that  it  would  raise 
your  hat  right  off  your  head,  then  he  jumped  into  the  air 
and  whirled  around  and  kicked  in  every  direction  with  all 
four  feet  at  once,  fell  down  and  rolled  over  towards  the 
chaplain,  and  got  up,  and  seeming  to  think  the  chaplain 
was  the  author  of  the  misery,  started  for  him,  and  that 
good  man  dodged  behind  trees  until  he  got  a  chance  to 
climb  up  one,  which  he  did,  and  sat  on  a  limb  and  shook 
his  fist  at  the  mule  and  me.  He  used  quite  strong  lan 
guage  at  me  for  not  killing  the  animal  dead.  Finally  the 
niggers  caught  the  mule,  and  the  chaplain  dismounted 
from  the  limb,  and  came  to  me.  I  told  him  my  carbine 
was  out  of  order,  and  I  should  have  to  take  it  apart  and  fix 
it,  and  that  there  was  no  knowing  whether  it  would  shoot 
where  I  aimed  it  or  not,  after  it  was  fixed,  and  I  might 
have  trouble  with  the  rest  of  the  horses.  It  would  take  an 
hour  at  least  to  fix  the  gun.  He  said  he  guessed  he  would 
go  back  to  camp,  and  leave  me  to  finish  up  the  slaughter, 
and  that  was  what  I  wanted.  The  colored  men  were  anx 
ious  to  go  back  too,  so  I  let  them  tie  the  horses  Jo  trees, 
and  all  go  back  except  one,  whom  I  knew.  After  they  had 
all  gone  I  went  up  to  the  dozen  southern  men  who  had 
been  watching  the  proceedings,  and  asked  one  who  was 
called  "  colonel "  by  the  rest,  if  he  didn't  think  it  was 


236  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

wrong  to  kill  the  horses  when  by  a  little  care  they  could  be 
of  much  use  in  tilling  crops.  "  Well,  sah,"  said  he  with 
dignity.  "  If  it  is  not  disloyalty,  sah,  for  a  southern  gen 
tleman  to  criticize  anything  that  a  yankee  does,  I  should 
say,  sah,  that  it  was  a  d — d  shame,  sah,  to  steal  our  horses, 
and  after  using  them  up,  sah,  kill  them  in  cold  blood,  sah. 
Each  one  of  those  animals  sah,  would  be  a  gold  mine,  sah, 
at  this  time,  to  us  who  have  come  from  the  wah,  sah,  des 
titute,  with  nothing  but  our  bare  hands  to  make  a  crop,  to 
keep  our  families  from  want,  sah." 

The  other  gentlemen  nodded  at  what  the  colonel  had 
said,  as  though  that  was  about  their  sentiments.  I  told 
him  that  I  felt  about  that  way  myself,  but  there  was  an 
objection.  If  I  gave  the  horses  away,  for  use  on  the  plan 
tations,  and  the  animals  should  be  used  hereafter  in  the 
confederate  army,  it  would  not  only  be  wrong,  but  I  would 
be  liable  to  be  dismissed  from  the  army. 

The  colonel  said  he  should  want  to  be  dismissed  from 
the  Yankee  army  if  he  was  in  it,  but  I  might  feel  different 
about  it.  But  he  said  he  would  pledge  me  his  word  as  a 
Southern  gentleman,  that  if  the  animals  could  be  lent  to 
them,  they  should  never  be  used  for  war  purposes.  He 
said  he  was  poor,  and  his  friends  there  were  poor,  but  they 
would  not  take  a  horse  as  a  gift .  from  a  stranger,  but  if  I 
would  lend  them  the  horses  for  a  year,  they  would  use 
them,  and  return  them  to  the  proper  officsr  a  year  hence, 
if  the  army  was  yet  in  existence,  or  they  would  take  them 
in  exchange  for  horses  that  had  previously  been  stolen 
from  them  by  our  army.  He  said  there  was  not  a  gentle 
man  present  but  had  lost  from  two  to  a  dozen  horses  since 
the  army  had  been  in  their  vicinity.  I  admired  the  dig- 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  23? 

nity  and  honesty  of  the  old  gentleman,  and  I  knew  mighty 
well  that  we  had  picked  up  every  horse  we  could  find,  and 
I  said: 

"Colonel,  here  are  about  thirty  horses  I  have  been 
ordered  to  kill.  If  I  do  not  kill  them  I  take  a  certain 
responsibility.  I  feel  under  obligations  to  many  Southern 
people  for  courtesies,  and  I  feel  that  the  nursing  I  received 
during  a  recent  sickness,  *rom  one  of  your  Southern  ladies, 
about  the  same  as  saved  nvy  life.  I  believe  the  war  is  very 
near  over,  and  that  neither  you  nor  our  men  will  have  oc 
casion  for  much  more  active  service.  You  have  come 
home  to  your  desolate  plantations,  and  found  everything 
gone.  This  is  the  fate  of  war,  but  it  is  unpleasant  all  the 
same.  If  you  can  use  these  animals  for  your  work,  in 
rising  crops,  you  may  take  them  in  welcome,  and  if  there 
is  any  cussing,  I  will  stand  it.  My  advice  would  be  to 
take  them  to  some  isolated  place  on  your  plantation,  and 
keep  them  out  of  sight  for  a  time.  Our  army  will  move 
within  a  week,  and  perhaps  never  come  back  here.  The 
animals  are  branded  "TJ.  S."  which  will  always  remain. 
If  the  horses  are  found  in  your  possession,  later,  you  may 
have  to  say  that  they  were  given  to  you  by  an  agent  of  the 
quartermaster.  If  they  are  taken  from  you,  grin  and  bear 
it.  If  you  are  permitted  to  keep  them,  and  they  do  you 
any  good,  I  shall  be  very  glad.  If  I  get  hauled  over  ^be 
coals  for  giving  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy,  I  will  lie 
out  of  it  some  way,  or  stand  my  punishment  like  a  little 
man.  The  horses  are  yours,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned/' 

"  Well,  sah,  you  are  a  perfect  gentleman,  sah,"  said  the 
colonel,  as  he  took  my  hand  and  shook  it  cordially.  "  And 
I  should  be  proud  to  entertain  you  at  my  place,  sah,  W« 


238  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE   W.  PECK 

have  got  little  left,  sah,  but  you  are  welcome  to  our  home 
at  any  time.  I  am  an  old  man,  with  a  bullet  in  my  leg. 
Two  of  my  boys  are  dead,  in  Virginia,  sah.  and  I  have  one 
boy  who  is  a  prisoner  at  the  north.  If  he  comes  home 
alive,  we  will  be  able  to  make  a  living  and  have  a  home 
again.  The  war  has  been  a  terrible  blow  to  us  all,  sah.  I 
reckon  both  sides,  sah,  have  got  about  enough,  and  both 
sides  have  made  cussed  fools  of  themselves.  When  this 
affair  is  settled,  sah,  the  north  and  south  will  be  better 
friends  than  ever,  sah.  I  wish  you  a  long  life,  sah." 

The  other  gentlemen  expressed  thanks,  and  they 
picked  out  two  or  three  horses  apiece  and  led  them  away, 
it  seemed  to  me  as  happy  a  lot  of  gentlemen  as  I  ever  saw. 
I  called  the  colored  man,  and  we  started  for  camp.  For  a 
five  dollar  bill,  and  a  promise  to  always  take  a  deep  inter 
est  in  the  colored  man's  welfare,  I  got  his  promise  that  he 
tvould  never  tell  anybody  about  my  giving  the  horses  away, 
and  for  nearly  a  year  he  kept  his  promise.  I  went  back  to 
headquarters  and  reported  that  the  animals  had  been  dis 
posed  of,  and  that  evening  I  was  invited  to  set  into  a  poker 
game  with  some  of  the  officers,  and  when  we  got  up  I 
had  won  over  a  hundred  dollars.  I  looked  upon  the  streak 
of  luck  as  a  premium  for  my  kindness  to  the  gentlemen 
who  took  the  horses,  but  some  of  the  officers  seemed  to 
have  a  suspicion  that  I  concealed  cards  up  my  sleeve.  It 
is  thus  that  the  best  of  us  are  misunderstood. 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  239 


CHAPTER  XX. 

I  DEMONSTKATE  THAT  GAMBLING  DOES  NOT  PAY — I  CAUSE  A  GEN 
ERAL  STAMPEDE  —  CHRISTMAS  IN  THE  PINE  WOODS  OF  ALA 
BAMA —  MILLIONS  OF  DOLLARS,  BUT  NO  CHRISTMAS  DINNER. 

When  I  went  away  from  the  party  of  officers,  where  we 
had  been  playing  draw-poker,  with  a  hundred  dollars  in 
my  pocket,  which  I  had  won  from  men  who  thought 
they  were  pretty  good  poker  players,  I  felt  as  though  I 
owned  the  earth.  I  had  my  hand  in  my  pocket,  hold  of 
the  roll  of  greenbacks,  and  in  that  way  constantly  realized 
that  I  was  no  common  pauper.  I  had  never  thought  that  I 
was  an  expert  at  cards,  but  this  triumph  convinced  me 
that  there  was  more  money  to  be  made  playing  poker  than 
in  any  other  way.  I  figured  up  in  my  mind  that  if  I 
could  win  a  hundred  dollars  a  night,  and  only  played  five 
nights  a  week,  I  could  lay  up  two  thousand  dollars  a 
month.  To  keep  it  up  a  year  would  make  me  rich,  and  if 
the  war  lasted  a  couple  of  years  I  could  go  home  with 
money  enough  to  buy  out  the  best  newspaper  in  Wisconsin. 
It  is  wonderful  what  a  train  of  thought  a  young  man's  first 
success  in  gambling,  or  speculation,  brings  to  him.  I  went 
to  bed  with  my  hundred  dollars  buttoned  inside  my  flannel 
shirt,  and  dreamed  all  night  about  holding  four  aces,  full 
hands,  and  three  of  a  kind.  All  that  night,  in  my  sleep, 
I  never  failed  to  "fill"  when  I  drew  to  a  hand.  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  break  every  officer  in  the  regiment,  at 
poker,  and  then  turn  my  attention  to  other  regiments,  and 
win  all  the  money  the  paymaster  should  bring  to  the  bri- 


240  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE  W.  PECK 

gade.  I  got  up  in  the  morning  with  a  headache,  and 
thought  how  long  it  would  be  before  night,  when  we  could 
play  poker  again,  and  I  wondered  why  we  couldn't  play 
during  the  day,  as  there  was  nothing  else  going  on.  It  got 
rumored  around  the  regiment  that  I  had  cleaned  the  offi 
cers  out  at  poker  the  night  before,  and  the  boys  seemed 
glad  that  a  private  had  made  them  pay  attention.  I  had 
not  yet  got  my  commission,  and  so  any  victory  I  might 
achieve  was  considered  a  victory  for  a  private  soldier.  Sev 
eral  of  the  boys  congratulated  me.  The  nearest  I  ever 
come  to  quarreling  with  my  old  partner,  Jim,  was  over 
this  poker  business.  I  showed  him  my  roll,  and  told  him 
how  I  had  cleaned  the  officers  out,  and  instead  of  feeling 
good  over  it,  Jim  said  I  was  a  confounded  fool.  I  tried  to 
argue  the  matter  with  Jim,  but  he  couldn't  be  convinced, 
and  insisted  that  they  had  made  a  fool  of  me,  and  had  let 
me  win  on  purpose,  and  that  they  would  win  it  all  back, 
and  all  I  had  besides.  He  said  I  had  better  let  the  chap 
lain  take  the  hundred  dollars  to  keep  for  me,  and  stay 
away  from  that  poker  game,  and  I  would  be  a  hundred 
ahead,  but  I  didn't  want  any  second-class  chaplain  to  be  a 
guardian  over  me,  and  I  told  Jim  I  was  of  age,  and  could 
take  care  of  myself.  Jim  said  he  thought  I  had  some 
sense  before  I  was  commissioned,  but  it  had  spoiled  me. 
He  said  in  less  than  a  week  I  would  be  borrowing  money 
of  him.  I  knew  better,  and  went  around  camp  with  my 
thumbs  stuck  in  my  armholes,  and  felt  big.  It  was  an 
awful  long  day,  but  I  put  in  the  time  thinking  how  I 
would  draw  cards,  and  bet  judiciously,  and  finally  night 
came,  and  I  went  over  to  the  major's  tent,  where  the  offi 
cers  usually  congregated.  I  was  early,  and  had  to  wait 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  241 

half  an  hour  before  the  crowd  showed  up.  As  they  came 
in  each  had  something  to  say  to  me.  "  Here's  the  man 
who  walked  off  with  our  wealth  last  night/'  said  one. 
"Here's  our  victim/' said  another.  "We  will  send  him 
to  his  tent  tonight  without  a  dollar."  They  chaffed  me  a 
good  deal,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  could  play  as 
well  as  they  could,  and  some  of  them  were  old  fellows  that 
had  played  poker  before  I  was  born.  Well,  we  went  to 
work,  and  the  first  hand  I  got  I  lost  ten  dollars.  It  was 
the  history  of  all  smart  Alecks's,  and  there  is  no  use  of 
going  into  details.  In  less  than  an  hour  they  had  won  the 
hundred  dollars,  and  fifty  that  I  had  sewed  inside  my  shirt 
to  keep  for  a  rainy  day,  and  they  had  joked  me  every  time 
I  bet  until  I  was  exasperated  to  such  an  extent  that  I  could 
have  killed  them.  Winning  or  losing  money  with  them 
was  a  mere  pastime,  and  they  seemed  to  enjoy  losing  about 
as  much  as  winning.  I  was  too  proud,  or  too  big  a  fool  to 
leave  the  game  when  I  had  lost  all  I  had,  and  I  borrowed 
a  little  of  each  of  them,  and  lost  it,  and  then  I  said  I  was 
tired  and  I  guessed  I  would  go  to  bed,  and  I  went  out, 
dizzy  and  sick  at  heart,  and  the  officers  laughed  so  I  oould 
hear  them  clear  to  my  tent.  On  the  way  to  my  tent,  and 
as  I  walked  around  for  half  an  hour  before  going  there,  I 
thought  over  what  a  fool  I  was,  how  I  had  forgotten  all  the 
good  advice  ever  given  me  by  my  friends.  Knowing  that 
I  was  not  intended  by  nature  for  a  gambler,  I  had  gone  in 
with  my  eyes  open,  made  a  temporary  success,  got  the  big 
head,  as  all  boys  do,  and  gone  back  and  laid  down  my  bun 
dle,  and  become  the  laughing  stock  of  the  whole  crowd. 
I  figured  up  that  I  was  just  an  even  hundred  dollars  out  of 
pocket,  and  decided  that  I  would  never  try  to  get  i\  back. 


242  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

I  would  simply  swear  off  gambling  right  there,  forget  that 
I  knew  one  card  from  another,  pay  up  my  gambling  debts 
when  I  got  my  first  pay,  and  never  touch  a  card  again. 
That  was  the  wisest  conclusion  that  I  ever  come  to.  After 
I  had  walked  around  until  my  head  cleared  off  a  little,  I 
went  in  the  tent  sly  and  still,  to  go  to  bed  without  letting 
Jim  hear  me.  I  was  ashamed,  and  didn't  want  to  talk.  I 
heard  Jim  roll  over  on  his  bunk,  and  he  said: 

"  Bet  ten  dollars,  pard,  that  you  lost  all  you  had." 

' '  Jim,  I  won't  bet  with  you.  I  have  sworn  off  betting 
intirely." 

"  Help  yourself/'  said  Jim,  as  he  reached  over  his  greasy 
old  pocketbook  to  me.  "  Take  all  you  want,  now  that  you 
have  come  to  your  senses.  But  you  must  admit  that  what 
I  said  about  your  being  a  fool,  was  true." 

"  Yes,  and  an  idiot,  and  an  ass/'  I  said,  as  I  handed 
back  Jim's  money.  "  But  that  settles  it.  I  will  never 
gamble  another  cent's  worth  as  long  as  I  live,  and  if  I  see 
a  friend  of  mine  gambling,  I  will  try  and  break  him  of  the 
habit.  There  is  nothing  in  it,"  and  I  went  to  sleep,  and 
didn't  dream  any  more  about  winning  all  the  money  in 
camp. 

Two  days  before  Christmas  our  cavalry,  consisting  of  a 
full  brigade,  started  on  a  raid,  or  a  march  through  the  ene 
my's  country,  and  as  I  could  not  act  as  an  officer  very  well, 
before  my  commission  arrived,  and  as  the  colonel  seemed 
to  hate  to  see  me  in  the  ranks  when  I  was  looked  upon  as 
an  officer,  he  sent  me  to  brigade  headquarters  on  a  detail 
to  carry  the  brigade  colors.  The  brigade  colors  consisted 
of  a  blue  guidon,  on  a  pole.  The  butt  <°<nd  of  the  pole,  or 
staff,  was  inserted  in  a  socket  of  leather  fastened  to  my 


PUT  DOWN  THE  EEBELLION.  243 

stirrup,,  and  T.  held  on  to  the  staff  with  my  right  hand  when 
on  the  march,,  guiding  my  horse  with  my  left  hand.  When 
the  command  halted  the  colors  were  planted  in  the  ground 
in  front  of  the  place  which  the  brigade  commander  had 
selected.  On  the  march  I  rode  right  behind  the  brigade 
commander  and  his  staff,  with  the  body  guard  to  protect 
the  precious  colors.  I  was  glad  of  this  position,  because  it 
took  me  among  high  officials,  and  if  there  was  anything  I 
doted  on  it  was  high  officers.  The  colonel  had  told  me 
that  I  munt  be  on  my  good  behavior,  and  salute  the  officers 
of  the  staff,  whenever  they  came  near  me.  He  said  the 
brigade  commander  was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  wouldn't 
put  up  with  any  monkey  business.  The  first  hour  of  my 
service  as  color  bearer  came  near  breaking  up  the  brigade. 
I  was  perhaps  forty  feet  behind  the  brigade  commander 
and  his  staff,  riding  as  stiff  as  though  I  was  a  part  of  the 
horse,  and  feeling  as  proud  as  though  I  owned  the  army. 
Suddenly  the  colonel  and  staff  turned  out  of  the  road,  and 
faced  to  the  rear,  and  started  to  ride  back  to  one  of  the 
regiments  in  the  rear.  I  saw  them  coming,  and  felt  that 
I  must  salute  them.  How  to  do  it  was  a  puzzle  to  me.  Ii 
I  saluted  with  my  left  hand,  it  would  be  wrong,  besides  I 
would  have  to  drop  the  reins,  and  my  horse  might  start  to 
run,  as  he  was  prancing  and  putting  on  as  much  style  as  I 
was.  If  I  saluted  with  my  right  hand,  I  should  have  to 
let  go  the  flag  staff0  The  salute  must  be  sudden,  so  I  could 
grac^  the  staff  very  quick,  before  it  toppled  over.  It  took 
a  great  head  to  decide  what  to  do,  and  I  had  to  decide 
quick.  Just  as  the  brigade  commander  got  opposite  me  I 
let  go  the  flag  staff,  brought  my  right  hand  quickly  to  the 
right  eye,  as  nice  a  salute  as  a  man  ever  saw,  and  returned 


244 


HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


it  to  grab  the  flag  staff.  But  it  was  too  late.  As  soon  as 
toy  right  hand  let  go  of  the  staff,  it  fell  over  and  the  gilt 
darj;  on  the  end  of  the  staff  struck  the  general's  horse  in 
the  flank,  he  jumped  sideways  against  the  adjutant-gener- 
a?s  horse,  and  his  horse  fell  over  the  brigade  surgeon's 
horse,  the  general's  horse  run  under  a  tree,  and  brushed 
the  general  off,  and  the  whole  staff  was  wild  trying  to  hold 
their  horses,  and  jumping  to  catch  the  general's  horse,  and 
pick  the  general  off  the  ground.  In  the  meantime  my 
horse  had  got  frightened  at  the  staff  and  flag  that  was 
dragging  on  the  ground,  with  one  end  in  the  socket  in  the 
stirrup,  the  pole  tickling  him  in  the  ribs,  and  he  began  to 
dance  around,  and  whirl,  and  knock  members  of  the  color- 
guard  off  their  horses,  and  they  stampeded  to  the  woods 
leaving  me  in  the  road,  on  a  frightened  horse,  whirling 
around,  unmanageable,  the  staff  striking  trees  and  horses, 
until  the  staff  was  broken. 

The  regiment  in  the  rear  of  us  saw  the  commotion,  saw 
the  general  dismounted,  and  the  colors  on  the  ground,  and 
«*,  general  stampede  in  front,  and,  thinking  the  general  and 
staff  had  been  ambushed  by  the  rebels,  and  many  killed, 
the  colonel  ordered  his  men  forward  on  a  charge,  and,  in 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it,  the  woods  were  full  of 
charging  soldiers,  looking  for  an  imaginary  enemy,  a  sur 
geon  had  opened  up  a  lot  of  remedies,  and  all  was  confu 
sion,  and  I  was  the  innocent  cause  of  it  all.  I  had  seen 
my  mistake  as  soon  as  the  flag  staff  knocked  the  general 
off  his  horse,  and  when  I  dismounted  and  picked  up  the 
flag,  and  the  pieces  of  the  staff,  and  found  myself  sur 
rounded  by  excited  troops,  I  wondered  if  the  general 
would  pull  his  revolver  and  shoot  me  himself,  or  order 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  245 

.come  of  the  soldiers  to  kill  me.  For  choice  I  had  rather 
have  been  killed  by  a  volley  from  a  platoon  of  soldiers,  but 
I  recognized  the  fact  that  the  general  had  a  perfect  right 
to  kill  me.  Ir  fact  I  wanted  him  to  shoot  me.  I  waa 
trimming  the  limbs  off  a  sapling  for  a  makeshift  flag  staff, 
when  I  saw  the  crowd  open,  and  the  general  walked 
towards  me.  His  face  was  a:trifle  pale,  except  where  the 
red  clay  from  the  road  covered  it,  and  I  felt  that  the  next 
moment  or  two  would  decide  in  what  manner  I  was  to 
meet  my  doom.  I  remembered  what  the  colonel  had  told 
me,  about  the  general  being  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and 
wondered  if  it  wouldn't  help  matters  if  I  should  fall  on 
my  knees  and  say  a  little  prayer,,  or  ask  him  to  spare  my 
life.  I  wondered  if  I  would  be  justified  in  drawing  my 
revolver  and  trying  to  get  the  drop  on  the  general.  But  I 
had  no  time  to  think  it  over,  for  he  came  right  up  to  me, 
and  saids 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  my  young  friend,  for  the  trouble 
and  annoyance  I  have  caused  you.  I  should  have  known 
better  than  to  ride  so  near  you,  and  frighten  your  horse, 
when  you  had  only  one  hand  to  guide  the  animal.  Are 
you  hurt?  No;  well,  I  am  very  glad.  Ah,  the  flag  staff 
is  broken!  Let  me  help  you  tack  the  flag  on  the  sapling. 
Orderly^  bring  me  some  nails.  Let  me  whittle  the  bark 
off  the  sapling,  so  it  will  not  hurt  your  hands.  When  we 
get  into  camp  tonight,  and  the  wagons  come  up,  I  will  see 
that  you  have  another  staff.  There,  don't  feel  bad  about 
it.  There  is  no  damage." 

Bless  his  soul!  I  could  have  hugged  him  for  his  kind, 
ness.  When  he  came  towards  me,  I  was  mad  and  desper 
ate,  and  when  he  spoke  kind  words  to  me,  my  chin  trem* 


S46 


HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


bled,  and  I  felt  like  a  baby.  He  stopped  the  brigade  for 
half  an  hour,  to  help  fix  up  my  flag,  and  all  the  time 
talked  so  kindly  to  me,  that  when  the  thing  was  fixed,  I 
felt  remorse  of  conscience,  and  said:  "General,  I  am  en 
tirely  to  blame  myself.  I  tried  to  perform  the  impossible 
feat  of  saluting  you  and  holding  the  colors  at  the  same 
time,  which  I  am  satisfied  now  cannot  be  done  success 
fully.  Lay  it  all  to  me." 

"I  knew  it,"  said  the  good  old  general,  "and  I  was 
going  to  tell  you  that  you  are  not  expected  to  salute  any 
body  when  you  have  the  colors.  You  are  a  part  of  the 
flag,  then.  You  will  learn  it  all  by  and  by,"  and  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  about  his  business,  as 
cool  as  though  nothing  had  happened,  and  left  me  feeling 
that  he  was  the  best  man  on  earth.  Further  acquaintance 
with  the  old  man  taught  me  that  he  was  one  of  nature's 
noblemen.  He  was  an  Illinois  farmer,  who  had  enlisted  as 
.•/private,  and  had  in  time  become  colonel  of  his  regiment, 
and  had  been  placed  in  command  of  this  brigade.  Every 
evening  he  would  take  an  axe  and  cut  up  fire-wood  enough 
for  headquarters,  and  he  was  not  above  cleaning  off  his 
horse  if  his  servant  was  sick,  or  did  not  do  it  to  suit,  and 
frequently  I  have  seen  him  greasing  his  own  boots. 

Two  days  out,  and  we  were  in  the  pine  woods  of  Ala 
bama,  with  no  habitation  within  ten  miles.  After  a  day's 
march  we  went  into  camp  in  the  woods,  and  it  was  the 
afternoon  before  Christmas.  The  young  pines,  growing 
among  the  larger  ones,  were  just  such  little  trees  as  were 
used  at  home  for  Christmas  trees,  and  within  an  hour  after 
getting  the  camp  made,  every  man  thought  of  Christmab 
at  home.  The  boys  went  off  into  the  woods  and  got  holly, 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  247 

and  mistletoe,  and  every  pup  tent  of  the  whole  brigade  was 
decorated,  and  they  hung  nose  bags,  grain  sacks,  army 
socks  and  pants  on  the  trees.  Around  the  fires  stakes  had 
been  driven  to  hang  clothes  on  to  dry,  and  as  night  came 
and  the  pitch  pine  fires  blazed  up  to  the  tops  of  the  great 
pines,  it  actually  looked  like  Christmas,  though  there  was 
not  a  Christmas  present  anywhere.  After  supper  the  bri 
gade  band  began  to  play  patriotic  airs,  with  occasionally 
an  old  fashioned  tune,  like  "Old  Hundred,"  the  woods 
rung  with  music  from  the  boys  who  could  sing,  and  every 
body  was  as  happy  as  I  ever  saw  a  crowd  of  people,  and 
when  it  came  time  to  retire  the  band  played  "  Home,  Sweet 
Home,"  and  three  thousand  rough  soldiers  went  to  bed 
with  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  every  man  dreamed  of  the 
dear  ones  at  home,  and  many  prayed  that  the  home  ones 
might  be  happy,  and  in  the  morning  they  all  got  up, 
stripped  the  empty  Christmas  stockings  off  the  evergreen 
trees,  put  them  on,  and  went  on  down  the  red  road,  and 
at  noon  the  army  entered  Montgomery,  Alabama,  the  first 
capital  of  the  confederate  states,  took  possession  of  the 
capital  building  in  which  were  millions  of  dollars  of  con 
federate  money  and  bonds.  Every  soldier  filled  his  pockets 
and  saddle  bags  with  bonds  and  bills  of  large  denomina 
tions.  It  was  a  poor  soldier  that  could  not  count  up  his 
half  a  million  dollars,  but  with  all  the  money  no  man  could 
buy  a  Christmas  dinner.  A  dollar  in  greenbacks  would 
buy  more  than  all  of  the  wagon  loads  of  confederate  cur 
rency  captured  that  day.  And  yet  the  people  of  Mont 
gomery  looked  upon  the  arrival  of  the  Yankees  much  as 
they  would  the  arrival  of  a  pestilence.  However,  it  was 
not  many  days  before  a  better  understanding  was  arrived 


248  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

at,  and  Yankee  blue  and  Confederate  gray  got  mixed  up, 
and  acquaintances  were  made  that  ripened  into  mutual 
respect  and  in  some  cases  love. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  240 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

I  Go  ON  A  SCOUTING  EXPEDITION  —  MY  HORSE  DIES  OP  POISON— 
I  TURN  HORSE-THIEF— I  CAPTURE  A  CHURCH,  CONGREGATION, 
AND  MINISTERS,  BUT  I  SPARE  THE  COMMUNION  WINE. 

Let's  see,  the  last  chapter  left  me  with  a  million  dollars, 
more  or  less,  of  confederate  money  in  my  possession,  and 
yet  I  had  not  enough  to  buy  a  square  meal.  I  think  there 
was  no  one  thing  that  caused  the  people  of  the  confederate 
states,  outside  of  their  army,  to  realize  the  hoplessness  of 
their  cause,  along  in  '64,  as  much  as  the  relative  value  of 
confederate  money  and  greenbacks.  Of  course  the  confed 
erate  soldiers,  poor  fellows,  realized  the  difference  some, 
when  they  could  get  hold  of  greenbacks,  but  the  people  of 
the  south  who  did  not  have  rations  furnished  them,  and  who 
had  to  skirmish  around  and  buy  something  to  live  upon, 
early  learned  that  a  greenback  was  worth  "two  in  the 
bush,"  as  it  were.  No  community  in  the  south  was  more 
loyal  to  the  confederacy  than  the  people  of  Montgomery, 
Alabama.  They  tried  to  use  confederate  currency  as  long 
as  there  was  any  hope,  and  they  tried  hard  to  despise  the 
greenbacks;  but  when  it  got  so  that  a  market  basket  full 
of  their  own  currency  was  looked  upon  with  suspicion  by 
their  own  dealers  in  eatables,  and  a  greenback  was  sought 
after  by  the  dealer,  and  its  possessor  was  greeted  with  a  smile 
while  the  overloaded  possessor  of  confederate  currency  was 
frowned  upon,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,  however,  a 
wild  desire  took  possession  of  the  people  to  get  hold  of  the 
toted  greenbacks;  and  a  soldier  or  army  fo^wer  who  had 


250  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

a  good  supply  of  greenbacks  was  met  more  than  half  way 
in  reconciliation;  and  little  jobs  were  put  up  to  get  the 
money  that  made  many  ashamed,  but  they  had  to  have 
greenbacks.  Many  would  have  given  their  lives  if  confed 
erate  money  could  have  been  as  good  as  the  money  of  the 
invaders,  but  it  was  not  and  never  could  be,  and  it  was  not 
an  hour  after  the  enemy  was  in  Montgomery  before  people 
who  had  been  loyal  to  the  south  up  to  that  hour  and 
believed  in  its  currency,  went  back  on  it  completely,  and 
they  cherished  the  greenback  and  hugged  it  to  their  bosoms 
like  an  old  friend.  They  had  rather  had  gold,  but  good 
green  paper  would  buy  so  much  more  than  any  currency 
they  had  known  for  years,  that  they  snatched  it  greedily. 
And  many  of  them  enjoyed  the  first  real  respect  for  the 
Union  that  they  had  had  for  four  years,  when  they  met 
the  well-fed  and  well-clothed  Union  soldiers,  who  did  not 
seem  as  bad  as  they  had  been  painted,  the  poorest  one  of 
which  had  more  money  in  his  pockets  than  the  richest  cit 
izen  of  supposed  wealth.  The  people  seemed  surprised  to 
meet  well-dressed  private  soldiers  who  could  converse  on 
<my  subject,  and  who  seemed  capable  of  doing  any  kind 
of  business.  Fires  broke  out  in  many  places  in  the  city, 
and  Union  soldiers  went  to  work  with  the  primitive  fire 
apparatus  at  hand  and  put  out  the  fires.  Locomotives  had 
been  thrown  from  the  track  of  the  railroad  in  an  attempt 
to  destroy  them,  and  private  soldiers  were  detailed  to  put 
the  locomotives  together  and  run  them,  which  they  did,  to 
the  surprise  of  the  people.  An  officer  would  take  charge 
of  a  quantity  of  captured  property,  and  he  would  detail 
the  first  half-dozen  soldiers  he  met  to  go  and  make  out  an 
invoice  of  the  property,  and  the  boys  would  do  it  as  well 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION. 

jts  the  oldest  southern  merchant.  A  planter  that  could 
not  speak  anything  but  French  would  come  to  the  captain, 
of  a  company  to  complain  of  something,  and  the  captain 
after  vainly  trying  to  understand  the  man,  would  turn  to 
some  soldier  in  his  company  and  say,  "Here  Frenchy,  talk 
to  this  man,  and  see  what  he  wants/'  and  the  soldier 
would  address  the  planter  in  French,  politely,  and  in  a 
moment  the  difficulty  would  be  settled,  and  the  planter 
would  go  away  bowing  and  smiling.  Any  language  could 
be  spoken  by  the  soldiers,  and  any  business  that  ever  was 
transacted  could  be  done  by  them.  A  soldier  printer  vis 
ited  the  office  of  a  city  paper,  and  in  a  conversation  with 
the  editor  informed  him  that  there  were  editors  enough  in 
his  regiment  to  edit  the  New  York  Herald.  At  first  the 
better  class  of  citizens,  the  old  fathers  in  Israel,  of  the 
confederacy,  stood  aloof  from  the  new  soldiers  in  blue, 
expecting  them  to  be  insolent,  as  conquerors  are  sometimes 
supposed  to  be;  but  soon  they  saw  that  the  boys  were  as 
mild  a  mannered  and  friendly  and  jolly  a  lot  as  they  ever 
saw,  not  the  least  inclined  to  gloat  over  their  fallen  enemy, 
and  at  times  acting  as  though  they  were  sorry  to  make 
any  trouble;  and  it  was  not  long  before  boys  in  blue  and 
citizens  in  gray  were  playing  billiards  together,  with  old 
gentlemen  keeping  count  for  them,  old  fellows,  who  a  week 
before  would  have  been  insulted  if  any  one  had  told  them 
they  would  ever  speak  to  a  Yankee  soldier.  The  second 
day  the  southern  ladies,  who  had  kept  indoors,  came  out 
and  promenaded  the  beautiful  streets,  and  seemed  to 
enjoy  the  sight  of  the  bright  uniforms,  and  before  night 
acquaintances  had  been  made,  and  it  did  not  cause  any 
remark  to  see  Union  officers  and  soldiers  walking  with 


252  HOW  PEIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

ladies,  talking  with  animation,  and  laughing  pleasantly. 
It  almost  seemed  as  though  the  war  was  over. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  stole  my  first  horse.  I 
had  ridden  horses  that  had  been  "captured"  from  the 
enemy,  in  fair  fights,  and  that  had  been  accumulated  in 
divers  ways  by  the  quartermaster,  and  issued  to  the  men, 
but  I  never  deliberately  stole  a  horse.  Two  or  three  com 
panies  of  my  regiment  had  gone  off  on  a  scout,  to  be  gone 
a  couple  of  days,  leaving  the  command  at  Montgomery, 
and  one  day  we  were  encamped  on  an  old  abandoned  field, 
taking  dinner.  The  horses  and  mules  were  grazing  near 
us,  and  there  was  no  indication  that  any  epidemic  was 
about  to  break  out.  We  were  about  sixty  miles  from 
Montgomery,  and  were  cooking  our  last  meal,  expecting  to 
make  a  forced  march  and  be  back  before  morning.  I  had 
got  the  midday  meal  for  Jim  and  myself  cooked,  the 
bacon,  sweet  potatoes,  coffee  and  so  forth,  and  spread  upon 
a  horse  blanket  on  the  ground,  and  we  were  just  about  to  sit 
down  to  eat,  when  a  mule  that  had  been  browsing  near  us, 
and  snooping  into  our  affairs,  attracted  our  attention.  All 
of  a  sudden  the  animal  became  rigid,  and  stood  up  as  stiff 
as  possible,  then  its  muscles  relaxed,  and  it  became  limber, 
and  whirled  around  and  brayed,  backed  up  towards  us,  and 
as  we  rushed  away  to  keep  from  being  kicked,  the  mule  fell 
over  in  a  fit  directly  on  our  beautifully  cooked  dinner,  rolled 
over  on  the  bacon  and  potatoes  and  coffee,  and  trembled 
and  brayed,  and  died  right  there.  I  looked  at  Jim  and 
Jim  looked  at  me.  "  Well,  condam  a  mule,  anyway,"  said 
Jim.  "  That  animal  has  been  ready  to  die  for  two  hours, 
and  just  to  show  its  cussedness,  it  waited  until  we  had  our 
dinner  cooked,  the  last  morsel  we  had,  and  then  it  fell  in  a 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION. 

fit,  and  expired  on  our  dining  table. "  I  made  some  re 
mark  not  complimentary  to  the  mule  as  a  member  of  so 
ciety  and  we  went  to  the  corpse  and  pulled  it  around  to  see 
if  we  couldn't  save  a  mouthful  or  two  that  could  be  eaten. 
"We  could  not,  as  everything  was  crushed  into  the  ground. 
I  suggested  that  we  cut  a  steak  out  of  the  mule,  and  broil 
it,  but  Jim  said  he  was  not  going  to  be  a  cannibal,  if  he 
knew  his  own  heart.  While  we  were  looking  at  the  re 
mains  of  our  meal,  my  horse,  the  rebel  horse  that  I  had 
rode  so  many  months,  and  loved  so,  which  was  hitched 
near,  lay  down,  began  to  groan  and  kick,  and  in  two 
minutes  he  was  dead.  Then  Jim's  horse  went  through  the 
same  performance  and  died,  and  by  that  time  there  was  p 
commotion  all  around  camp,  horses  and  mules  dying  sud* 
denly,  until  within  half  an  hour  there  were  only  a  dozen 
animals  alive,  and  forty  cavalrymen,  at  least,  were  horse, 
less.  The  camp  looked  like  a  battle  field.  Nobody  knew 
what  was  the  matter  of  the  animals,  until  an  old  negro, 
who  lived  near,  came  out  and  said,  "  You  uns  ought  to 
know  better  than  to  let  you  horses  eat  dat  sneeze  weed. 
Dat  is  poison.  Kills  animals  just  like  rat  poison. "  And 
then  he  showed  us  a  weed,  with  a  square  stem,  that  grew 
there,  and  which  was  called  sneeze  weed.  He  said  native 
animals  would  not  touch  it,  but  strange  animals  eat  it  be 
cause  it  was  nice  and  green.  Well,  we  were  in  a  fix.  The 
men  were  called  together,  and  the  major  told  them  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  to  take  their  saddles  and  bridles  on 
their  backs  and  walk  to  Montgomery,  unless  they  could 
steal  a  horse.  He  advised  us  to  scatter  into  parties  of  two 
or  three,  enough  to  protect  ourselves  from  possible  attack, 
go  on  cross  roads,  and  to  plantations,  forage  for  something 


254  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE  W.  PECK 

to  eat,  and  take  the  first  horse  or  mule  we  could  find,  and 
report  to  Montgomery  as  soon  as  possible.  Jim  and  I,  of 
course,  decided  to  stand  by  each  other,  and  after  the  men 
who  had  not  lost  their  horses,  had  rode  away,  the  forty 
dismounted  men  shouldered  their  saddles,  and  started  in 
iifferent  directions,  seeking  some  other  men's  horses.  I 
never  had  realized  that  a  cavalry  saddle  was  so  heavy,  be 
fore.  Mine  seemed  to  weigh  a  ton.  We  struck  a  cross 
road,  and  followed  it  for  two  or  three  miles,  when  I  called 
a  council  of  war,  with  Jim.  I  told  him  that  it  was  all 
foolishness  to  lug  those  heavy  saddles  all  over  the  Southern 
Confederacy.  If  we  succeeded  in  stealing  horses,  we  could 
probably  steal  saddles,  also,  or  if  not  we  could  get  a  sheep 
skin.  I  told  Jim  I  would  receipt  to  him  for  his  saddle, 
and  then  I  would  leave  them  in  a  fence  corner,  and  if  we 
ever  got  back  to  the  regiment  I  would  report  the  saddle 
lost  in  action. 

Jim  said  I  had  a  great  head,  and  he  consented,  and  we 
left  our  saddles  and  moved  on.  Jim  said  that  now  we  had 
only  a  bridle  and  a  pair  of  spurs,  we  were  more  like  regu 
larly  ordained  horse-thieves.  He  said  the  most  successful 
horse-thief  he  ever  knew  in  Wisconsin  never  had  anything 
but  a  halter  as  his  stock  in  trade.  He  would  go  out  with 
a  halter,  with  a  rope  on  the  end,  pick  up  a  horse,  put  the 
rope  in  the  horse's  mouth,  and  ride  away,  and  nobody 
could  catch  him.  I  asked  Jim  if  he  didn't  feel  humiliated, 
a  loyal  soldier,  to  class  himself  with  horse-thieves.  He  said 
when  he  enlisted  he  made  up  his  mind  to  do  nothing  but 
shoot  rebels  through  the  heart  or  the  left  lungl  It  was 
his  idea  to  be  a  sharpshooter,  and  aim  at  the  button  on  the 
!eft  breast  of  the  enemy,  but  when  he  found  that  lots  of 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  255 

the  rebels  didn't  have  any  buttons  on  their  coats  and  that 
he  might  shoot  all  day  at  a  single  rebel  and  not  hit  him, 
and  that  shooting  into  them  in  flocks  didn't  seem  to 
diminish  the  enemy  the  least  bit,  he  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  turn  his  hand  to  anything;  and  if  the  rebellion 
conld  be  put  down  easier  by  his  stealing  hprses  at  thirteen 
dollars  a  month,  he  would  do  it  if  ordered.  He  said  we 
were  only  putting  in  time,  promenading  around,  and  we 
should  get  our  salary  all  the  same.  And  so  we  wandered 
on,  talking  the  thing  over.  When  we  came  to  a  plantation 
we  would  walk  all  around  it,  and  examine  the  woods  and 
swamps  adjacent,  because  the  people  of  the  South  had 
learned  that  a  horse  or  a  mule  was  not  safe  anywhere  out 
of  the  most  impenetrable  swamp.  It  was  dark  when  Jim 
and  I  decided  to  camp  for  the  night,  and  we  went  into  a 
deserted  cotton  gin  and  prepared  for  a  sleep.  It  was  al 
most  dark,  and  Jim  said  he  had  just  seen  a  chicken,  near  a 
cabin,  fly  up  in  a  peach  tree  to  roost,  and  he  was  going  to 
have  the  chicken  as  soon  as  it  was  dark.  I  laid  down  on 
some  refuse  cotton,  and  Jim  went  out  after  the  chicken.  I 
had  fallen  asleep  when  Jim  returned,  and  he  had  the 
chicken,  and  a  skillet,  and  a  couple  of  canteens  of  water. 
I  crawled  out  of  my  nest  and  built  a  fire,  while  Jim  dressed 
the  chicken,  and  got  the  water  to  boiling,  and  the  chicken 
was  put  in.  For  three  hours  we  boiled  the  chicken,  but 
each  hour  made  it  tougher.  I  told  Jim  he  might  be  a  suc 
cess  as  a  horse-thief,  but  when  it  come  to  stealing  tender 
poultry  he  was  a  lamentable  failure,  but  he  said  it  was  the 
only  hen  on  the  place,  and  if  I  didn't  want  to  ea*t  it  I 
could  retire  to  my  couch  and  he  would  set  up  with  the 
hen.  I  was  so  hungry,  and  the  smell  of  the  boiling  hen 


256  HOW  PKIVATE  GEOEGE  W.  PECK 

was  so  savory,  that  I  remained  awake,  and  at  about  midnight 
Jim  announced  that  he  had  succeeded  in  prying  off  a 
piece  of  the  breast,  so  we  speared  the  hen  out  of  the 
water,  laid  it  on  the  frame  of  a  grindstone  in  the  gin- 
house,  and  sat  down  to  the  festive  board.  "Will  you 
have  the  light  or  the  dark  meat,"  asked  Jim,  with  a 
politeness  that  would  have  done  credit  to  a  dancing- 
master.  I  told  him  I  preferred  .the  dark  meat,  so  he  took 
/'.old  of  one  leg  and  I  the  other,  and  we  pulled  the  hen 
apart.  The  hen  seemed  to  be  copper-riveted,  for  when  I 
got  a  chunk  of  it  down,  and  it  chinked  up  a  vacant  place 
in  the  stomach,  it  did  seem  as  though  there  was  nothing 
like  hen  to  save  life.  We  eat  sparingly  that  night,  be 
cause  we  were  weak,  and  the  hen  was  strong,  and  we  laid 
down  and  slept  peacefully,  and  awoke  in  the  morning 
hungry.  When  the  hen  became  cold,  in  the  morning  it 
was  tough.  "  Will  you  have  some  of  the  cold  chicken," 
said  Jim,  and  I  told  him  I  would  try  a  little.  It  was 
better  than  India  rubber,  and  we  made  a  breakfast  and 
started  on.  It  was  Sunday.  As  we  came  out  to  the  main 
road,  we  saw  people  dressed  up,  that  is,  with  clean  shirts. 
As  ten  o'clock  approached  we  could  see  colored  people  and 
white,  wending  their  way  to  a  little  church  in  the  pine 
woods.  We  kept  out  of  sight,  and  waited,  several  parties 
passed  us  on  horseback,  some  in  carriages,  and  many  on 
foot.  Presently  three  soldiers  of  our  scattered  party  came 
along  carrying  saddles,  and  we  called  them  into  the  woods, 
where  we  were.  I  unfolded  to  them  my  scheme,  which 
was  to  surround  that  church,  hold  the  worshippers  as  pris 
oners  inside,  while  we  stole  the  horses  that  would  be  hitched 
to  the  fence.  Jim  kicked  on  it.  He  said  he  had  rath 


PUT  DOWN  THE  KEBELLIOK.  257 

walk  than  to  interfere  with  people  who  were  enjoying  their 
religion.  He  said  he  was  never  very  pious  himself,  but  his 
parents  were,  and  he  should  always  hate  himself  if  he 
helped  to  raid  that  church.  The  other  fellows  were  for 
going  for  the  horses.  Pretty  soon  four  more  of  our  boys 
came  along,  and  we  called  them  in.  They  had  got  on  to 
the  church  services,  and  had  their  eyes  on  the  horses. 
That  made  nine  of  us,  and  as  we  were  armed,  we  believed 
we  could  capture  those  old  men  and  women  and  negroes, 
and  get  the  horses. 

Being  a  brevet  officer  I  was  placed  in  command  of  the 
party,  and  a  plan  was  agreed  upon.  We  were  to  scatter 
and  surround  the  church,  and  ask  the  people  outside  to 
step  inside,  and  then  lock  the  door,  and  place  a  guard  on 
three  sides  of  the  little  old  church  where  there  were  win 
dows,  but  not  to  fire  a  gun  unless  attacked,  and  not  to 
speak  disrespectfully  to  any  person.  If  there  was  any 
argument  with  anybody,  I  was  to  do  the  talking.  We  de 
cided  to  take  about  fifteen  hoises,  if  there  were  that  num 
ber  there,  because  we  would  be  sure  to  find  some  of  our 
scattered  boys  dismounted  before  we  got  far  toward  Mont 
gomery,  and  it  was  a  good  idea  to  take  horses  when  we  had 
a  chance.  Well,  it  was  a  job  I  did  not  like,  but  what  was 
a  fellow  to  do.  We  were  sixty  miles  from  headquarters,  on 
foot  and  out  of  meat.  I  had  never  been  in  a  church  row 
before.  It  seemed  as  though  religious  worshippers  ought 
to  be  exempt  from  war,  with  its  wide  desolation.  But 
business  was  business.  We  surrounded  the  church,  walk 
ing  up  9uietly  from  different  directions,  and  as  we  closed 
tip  on  the  sacred  edifice  half  a  dozen  men,  white  and  color 
ed,  were  standing  in  front,  and  two  men  were  talking  ovei 


258  HOW  PEIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

a  horse  trade.  The  minister  was  expounding  the  gospel, 
talking  loud,  and  all  else  was  still.  We  invited  the  out 
siders  to  go  in,  which  they  did  with  some  reluctance,  the 
door  was  fastened  on  the  outside,  guards  were  placed,  and 
the  preaching  stopped.  The  minister  had  been  informed 
that  the  yankees  had  captured  the  place.  There  were  only 
two  sides  of  the  church  with  windows,  so  two  guards  were 
sufficient,  and  the  rest  of  us  went  to  work  skinning  the 
harnesses  off  the  horses.  A  window  was  raised  and  an  old 
man  stuck  his  head  out  and  said,  as  one  of  the  boys  was 
mounting  an  old  mare  belonging  to  him,  "I  forbid  you 
touching  that  mare."  A  carbine  was  pointed  at  the  win 
dow,  and  the  old  man  drew  in  his  head,  and  the  window 
was  slammed  down.  We  had  got  sixteen  pretty  good 
horses,  when  a  window  on  the  other  side  opened,  and  the 
minister's  head  was  put  out,  and  he  said,  "In  the  name  of 
the  church  I  command  you  to  desist."  He  looked  so  fierce 
that  Jim,  who  was  on  guard  on  that  side,  and  who  had 
objected  to  the  scheme  on  account  of  its  being  a  church, 
cocked  his  carbine  and  pointed  it  at  the  minister  and  said, 
"gol  darn  you,  dry  up!"  He  dried  up,  the  window  closed 
and  except  for  the  heads  at  the  windows,  and  faces  looking 
very  mad,  all  was  quiet,  When  we  had  got  the  horses 
strung  out,  and  the  men  were  mounted,  I  looked  in  a  car 
riage,  accidentally,  and  saw  a  basket,  covered  over  with  a 
paper.  The  paper  was  a  religious  one,  published  at  Savan 
nah,  and  being  a  newspaper  man,  I  looked  at  the  leading 
editorial,  which  was  headed,  "The  Lord  will  provide."  I 
never  took  much  stock  in  regular  stereotyped  editorials, 
but  when  I  turned  my  eye  from  the  editorial  to  the  basket, 
I  realized  that  an  editorial  in  a  religious  newspaper,  was 


PUT  DOWN"  THE  REBELLION.  259 

liable  to  contain  much  truth,  for  the  basket  was  filled  with 
as  fine  a  lunch  as  a  man  ever  saw.  It  seemed  that  the 
people  t  ame  quite  a  long  distance  to  church,  and  brought 
their  dinner,  remaining  to  the  afternoon  services.  0,  but 
I  was  hungry.  I  looked  in  several  other  carriages,  and 
found  baskets  in  each.  Every  man  in  my  party  was  as 
hungry  as  a  she  wolf,  and  I  knew  they  would  not  leave  a 
mouthful  if  they  once  got  to  going  on  the  lunches,  and  as 
it  wasn't  the  policy  of  my  government  to  take  the  bread 
from  the  mouths  of  Sunday-school  children,  I  decided  to 
divide  the  lunches.  So  I  appointed  Jim  and  an  Irishman 
to  help  me,  and  we  opened  all  the  baskets  and  took  half. 
Jim  came  to  one  basket  with  two  loaves  of  bread  and  two 
bottles  of  wine,  and  he  stopped. 

"He  said,  "Pard,  that  lay-out  in  the  big  basket,  with 
the  silver  pitcher,  is  for  the  communion.  I'm  a  bold  buc 
caneer  of  the  Spanish  main,  but  Fll  be  cussed  if  I  touch 
that." 

The  Irishman  said  no  power  on  earth  could  get  him  to 
touch  it,  and  he  crossed  himself  reverently,  and  we  left  the 
communion  lay-out,  and  passed  the  half  we  had  taken 
from  the  baskets  around  among  the  boys,  and  they  eat  as 
though  a  special  providence  had  provided  them  with  appe 
tites  and  means  of  satisfying  them.  After  enjoying  the 
meal  the  boys  said  we  ought  to  return  thanks  for  the  good 
things  the  pious  people  had  provided  for  us,  so  I  went  to 
the  door  of  the  church,  opened  it,  and  faced  the  congrega 
tion.  There  were  old  and  young,  and  some  of  them  looked 
mad,  and  I  didn't  blame  them.  In  a  few  well  chosen  re 
marks  I  addressed  the  minister,  telling  him  I  regretted  the 
circumstances,  but  it  was  necessary  to  do  what  we  had 

19 


#60  HCTW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

done.  We  had  tried  to  do  it  as  pleasantly  as  possible^  but 
no  doubt  it  seemed  hard  to  them.  I  said  we  had  got  to  go 
to  Montgomery,  and  that  if  any  of  them  who  had  lost  their 
horses,  would  come  there  within  a  few  days,  I  had  no  doubt 
the  proper  authorities  would  return  them  their  horses,  but 
that  they  must  stand  the  loss  of  a  half  of  their  lunch,  as  we 
had  divided  it  up  as  square  as  we  knew  how.  One  young 
Confederate  soldier,  with  an  empty  sleeve,  who  had  come 
to  church  with  his  mother,  and  who  could,  no  doubt,  real 
ize  the  situation  better  than  the  rest,  said,  "  That  is  all 
right,  Mr.  Yankee.  I  would  do  the  same  thing,  under  the 
circumstances,  if  I  was  in  your  country,  horseless  and  hun 
gry/'  There  were  some  murmurs  of  dissatisfaction,  some 
smiled  at  the  situation,  and  we  mounted  and  rode  away. 
Before  we  were  out  of  sight  the  whole  congregation  was 
out  of  the  church,  under  the  pine  trees,  taking  an  account 
of  stock,  or  lost  stock,  and  no  doubt  saying  hard  tilings  of 
the  Yankees.  We  traveled  all  day  and  nearly  all  night, 
picked  up  some  of  our  dismounted  men,  and  arrived  in 
Montgomery  the  next  day  before  noon.  In  a  few  days  my 
one-armed  confederate  soldier,  who  was  home  from  the 
army  in  Virginia,  having  been  discharged  for  disability, 
came  to  Montgomery  with  the  people  who  had  lost  their 
horses  at  the  church,  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
many  of  them  either  receive  their  animals  back,  or 
vouchers  from  the  quartermaster,  by  which  they  got  pay 
from  the  government  for  the  animals.  And  I  entertained 
the  one-armed  confederate  for  two  days,  and  we  became 
great  friends.  Two  years  ago  I  met  him  in  Georgia,  grown 
gray,  and  found  him  connected  with  a  Georgia  railroad,  and 
we  had  a  great  laugh  over  my  capture  of  the  congregation. 


PUT  DOWK  THE  KEBELLlOtf. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  SPOTTED  HORSE — His  SHAMEFUL  BEHAVIOUR  AT  A  FUNERAL 
—  I  WAS  TEMPTED  TO  HAVE  MY  HORSE  SHOT — BUT  I  TRADED 
HIM  TO  THE  CHAPLAIN. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  my  luck  was  the  worst  of  any 
man's  in  the  army,  and  I  was  constantly  getting  into  situ 
ations  that  caused  my  conduct  to  be  talked  about.  When 
we  raided  the  church,  mentioned  last  week,  for  horses,  I 
saw  a  nice  white  horse  with  red  spots  on  him,  with  a  sad 
dle,  and  being  the  commander  of  the  squad  of  horse-thieves, 
it  was  no  more  than  right  for  me  to  take  my  choice  first, 
so  I  chose  the  spotted  horse,  and  thought  I  had  the  show 
iest  horse  in  the  army.  The  animal  was  a  sort  of  Arabian, 
and  before  I  had  rode  him  a  mile  I  was  in  love  with  him. 
When  I  got  to  Montgomery  a  man  told  me  that  horse  used 
to  belong  to  a  circus  that  closed  up  there  the  first  year  of 
the  war,  and  was  sold  to  a  planter.  He  said  the  horse  was 
considered  one  of  the  finest  ever  seen  in  the  South.  I  felt 
much  elated  over  my  capture,  and  refused  several  offers  to 
trade.  I  thought  no  horse  was  too  good  for  me,  and  for 
two  or  three  days  I  did  nothing  but  feed  and  groom  my 
spotted  horse,  until  his  coat  shone  like  satin,  and  he  felt  so 
kitteny  that  I  was  almost  afraid  to  get  on  his  back.  One 
morning  an  order  was  issued  for  the  regiment  to  turn  out 
in  a  body  to  attend  the  funeral  of  a  major  of  one  of  the 
regiments,  who  had  died,  and  I  was  sent  for  to  carry  the 
brigade  colors,  a  position  I  had  been  relieved  from  after 
we  arrived  at  Montgomery.  The  boys  all  dressed  up  in 


262  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

their  best,  and  I  looked  about  as  slick  as  any  of  them,  and 
with  my  spotted  horse,  I  felt  as  though  I  would  attract 
about  as  much  attention  as  any  of  the  officers  in  the  pro 
cession.  At  the  proper  time  I  mounted  my  horse  and  rode 
over  to  brigade  headquarters,  not  without  some  difficulty, 
for  my  horse  saw  the  crowd  on  the  streets,  and  evidently 
thought  it  was  circus  day,  for  he  pranced  and  snorted,  and 
walked  with  one  fore-foot  at  a  time,  pawing  as  you  have 
seen  a  horse  in  a  circus,  trained  to  walk  that  way.  As  I 
rode  up  to  brigade  headquarters  and  stopped,  I  must  have 
touched  my  horse  with  my  foot  somewhere,  for  he  got 
down  on  his  knees,  and  as  I  got  off,  the  horse  laid  down 
right  in  front  of  the  colonel's  tent,  just  as  he  would  in  a 
circus.  Even  then  I  did  not  realize  that  the  confounded 
brute  was  a  circus  trick-horse.  He  had  been  taught  to  lay 
down,  evidently,  at  a  certain  signal.  And  he  laid  there, 
looking  up  at  me  with  his  cunning  eyes,  waiting  for  me  to 
give  the  signal  for  him  to  get  up,  but  I  "did  not  know  the 
combination,"  and  he  wouldn't  get  up  for  kicking,  so  I 
stood  there  like  a  fool  waiting  to  see  what  he  would  do 
next.  The  colonel  commanding  the  brigade,  the  nice  old 
man  who  had  helped  me  out  of  my  difficulty  with  my  other 
horse,  on  the  march  when  he  got  on  a  tantrum,  come  out 
of  his  tent  and  said  he  guessed  my  horse  was  sick,  and  he 
t-c-d  an  orderly  to  go  to  the  cook  house  and  get  a  little  red 
pepper  and  let  the  horse  take  a  snuff  of  it.  In  the  mean 
time  my  horse  got  up  on  his  fore  feet  and  sat  on  his 
haunches,  like  a  dog,  just  as  circus  horses  always  do, 
reached  up  his  neck  and  took  a  nice  white  silk  handker 
chief  out  of  the  breast  of  the  colonel's  coat,  and  held  it  in 
his  mouth.  It  was  a  circus  trick,  and  I  knew  it,  but  the 


PUT  DOWN   THE   REBELLION.  263 

colonel  said,  "  Poor  horse,  he  is  sick/'  and  as  the  orderly 
come  with  the  red  pepper  the  colonel  held  it  to  the 
horse's  nose.  The  horse  got  up,  and  I  mounted,  and  it 
must  have  been  about  that  time  that  the  red  pepper  began 
its  work,  for  my  horse  stood  on  his  fore  feet  and  kicked 
up,  then  got  on  his  hind  feet  and  reared  up,  and  snorted, 
and  come  down  on  the  colonel's  tent,  and  crushed  it  to  the 
ground,  and  broke  the  colonel's  camp  cot,  got  tangled  in 
tha  guy  ropes,  and  tore  everything  loose  and  jumped  out 
in  the  street,  and  began  to  paw  and  snort.  I  suppose  there 
was  a  thousand  people  around  by  that  time,  soldiers  and 
citizens,  and  I  sat  there  on  that  horse  and  wished  I  was 
dead,  and  I  guess  the  colonel  did  so  too. 

Finally  it  was  time  to  move,  and  the  colonel  sent 
out  the  brigade  colors  to  me,  and  the  staff  started  up  street 
towards  the  funeral.  My  horse  started  with  them,  and 
seemed  proud  of  the  flag,  and  I  guess  he  would  have  gone 
along  all  right,  only  a  band  down  the  street  began  to  play 
a  waltz.  Do  you  know,  that  spotted  horse  began  to  waltz 
around  just  as  though  he  was  in  a  circus>  and  I  couldn't 
keep  him  straight  to  save  me.  The  colonel  seemed  morti 
fied,  as  we  were  approaching  the  place  where  the  services 
were  to  be  held,  and  it  was  necessary  to  appear  solemn. 
Finally  we  began  to  get  out  of  hearing  of  the  band,  and 
my  horse  stopped  waltzing,  but  he  kept  up  a-dancing,  and 
snorting  from  the  red  pepper,  until  I  could  have  killed 
him.  When  the  colonel  and  his  staff,  including  myself 
and  the  circus-horse,  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  funeral 
was,  another  band  was  playing  a  very  solemn  sort  of  a 
funeral  tune,  and  for  a  wonder  my  horse  did  not  act  up  at 
all.  He  seemed  to  stand  and  think,  as  though  trying  to 


264  HOW  PKIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

make  out  what  kind  of  music  it  was.  He  had  evidently 
never  heard  such  music  in  the  circus  and  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  When  the  body  was  brought  out  of  the  house, 
and  the  procession  started  down  the  street  for  the  grave,  a 
drum  major,  with  a  staff  in  his  hand,  came  along  by  me, 
and  I  have  always  thought  my  horse  took  the  drum  major 
for  the  ring  master  of  a  circus,  for  he  reared  up  and  walked 
on  his  hind  feet,  and  pawed  the  air,  and  made  a  spectacle 
of  me  that  made  me  so  ashamed  that  I  wanted  to  be  killed. 
I  had  the  brigade  colors  in  one  hand,  and  had  only  one 
hand  and  two  feet  to  cling  on  the  horse  by,  and  I  must  have 
looked  like  a  cat  climbing  the  roof  of  a  whitewashed  barn. 
The  drum  major  got  scared  at  my  horse  walking  towards 
him  in  that  way,  and  he  lost  his  bear-skin  cap  off  and 
fell  over  it,  and  rolled  in  the  sand,  and  the  horse,  thinking 
that  was  a  part  of  the  circus  turned  and  kicked  at  the 
drum  major  with  both  his  hind  feet,  until  the  poor  assist 
ant  musician  got  up  and  climbed  over  a  fence.  The  horse 
got  quiet  then,  only  he  began  to  nibble  his  fore  leg,  as 
though  trying  to  untie  a  handkerchief  that  the  clown  had 
tied  on,  as  they  do  in  the  circus.  The  colonel  rode  up  to 
me,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  indignation,  asked  me  what  I 
meant  by  causing  ourselves  to  become  a  spectacle  for  gods 
and  men  on  so  solemn  an  occasion.  He  said  he  was  tempted 
to  have  my  horse  shot,  and  me  placed  in  the  guard-house. 
I  told  him  I  hoped  to  die  if  I  could  help  it.  I  said  the 
horse  seemed  to  be  possessed  to  do  some  circus  business 
wherever  he  went.  I  confided  to  the  colonel  that  the  horse 
had  been  a  circus-horse  before  the  war,  and  the  music  and 
tinsel,  and  crowd  that  he  saw,  had  turned  his  head  and 
made  him  think  that  he  was  again  with  his  beloved  circus, 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  265 

where  he  had  spent  the  best  years  of  his  life.  The  colonel 
said  I  ought  to  have  known  better  than  to  bring  a  circus 
horse  to  a  funeral.  Well,  when  the  drum  major  got  out  of 
sight  the  horse  acted  better,  and  we  went  along  all  right, 
the  solemn  music  of  the  march  to  the  grave  seeming  to 
take  the  circus  out  of  him.  He  didn't  do  anything  out  of 
the  way  on  the  march,  except  to  put  out  his  fore-feet  stiff, 
and  keep  time  to  the  music,  like  a  trained  circus  horse, 
which  attracted  a  good  deal  of  attention  among  the  citizens 
on  the  street,  who  seemed  to  know  the  horse.  Just  as  we 
got  out  at  the  edge  of  town  he  did  make  one  raw  break. 
There  was  a  colored  drayman,  with  his  dray  backed  up  to 
wards  the  procession,  and  when  my  circus  horse  saw  the 
dray,  before  I  could  prevent  him,  he  whirled  around  and 
put  his  fore  feet  upon  the  hind  end  of  the  dray,  put  one 
foot  on  the  top  of  a  stake  on  the  dray,  and  stood  there  for 
a  minute,  like  a  horse  statute,  until  I  jerked  him  down  off 
of  there.  0, 1  was  so  mortified  that  my  teeth  fairly  ached, 
and  the  perspiration  stood  out  on  me  in  great  beads.  A 
staff  officer  of  the  general  commanding,  came  along  to  the 
colonel,  presented  the  compliments  of  the  general,  and 
asked  if  he  could  not  do  something  to  prevent  that  red 
headed  clown  on  the  spotted  horse  from  doing  any  more 
circus  acts  until  after  the  last  sad  rites  had  been  performed. 
The  colonel  said  it  should  be  stopped,  and  told  the  staff 
officer  to  present  his  compliments  to  the  general  and  say 
that  he  was  humiliated  beyond  endurance  by  the  perform 
ance  of  the  horse,  but  that  the  young  man  riding  the  horse 
was  not  to  blame,  as  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  keep 
the  circus  tendencies  of  the  horse  down,  but  he  added  that 
he  would  have  the  horse  shot  if  there  was  any. more  of  it. 


266  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

The  horse  kept  quiet  until  we  had  got  to  the  cemetery, 
and  returned  to  town.  As  we  got  into  a  wide  street  there 
tyas  an  old  circus  ring,  partly  grown  up  with  weeds,  near 
Vhere  the  division  quartermaster  had  a  large  tent  inside  a 
picket  fence,  filled  with  quartermaster  stores.  If  I  had 
known  anything,  I  would  have  kept  the  horse's  head 
turned  away  from  the  circus  ring,  and  the  tent,  but  I 
thought  there  would  be  no  more  trouble.  Just  as  we  got 
opposite  the  ring,  the  band,  which  had  heretofore  played 
dead  marches,  struck  up  a  regular  ripety-rap-rap-boom- 
boom  circus  tune,  and  I  felt  the  horse  tremble  all  over. 
Before  I  could  think  twice,  the  confounded  horse  had  tried 
to  jump  through  the  bass  drum,  had  knocked  the  drum 
mer  down,  and  jumped  into  the  circus  ring.  I  sawed  on 
the  bit  and  tried  to  stop  him,  and  dug  into  his  ribs  with 
the  spurs,  but  he  galloped  around  the  circus  ring  three  or 
four  times,  and  stopped  still,  as  though  expecting  a  clowr> 
would  come  up  and  say,  ( '  What  will  the  little  lady  have 
now?"  0,  if  I  could  have  had  one  more  hand  to  use,  I 
would  have  drawn  my  revolver  and  put  a  bullet  through 
the  brain  of  the  wretched  horse,  who  was  making  me  the 
laughing  stock  of  the  whole  army,  and  the  citizens. 

The  procession  moved  on  towards  camp,  the  colonel 
seeming  relieved  to  have  me  out  of  sight,  with  my  spotted 
horse,  and  a  crowd  of  citizens,  boys  and  niggers  collected 
around  the  ring,  yelling  and  laughing.  I  made  one  des 
perate  effort  and  reined  the  horse  out  of  the  ring,  and  just 
then  he  caught  sight  of  the  quartermaster's  tent  across 
the  road,  and  evidently  thinking  it  was  the  dressing-room 
of  the  circus,  he  started  for  it  on  a  run,  jumped  the  picket 
fence  as  though  it  was  a  circus  hurdle,  and  rushed  in  the 


PUT   DOWN"   THE    REBELLION".  267 

loor  of  the  tent  where  a  dozen  clerks  were  weighing  out 
commissary  stores,  stopped  suddenly,  and  I  went  over  his 
head  into  a  barrel  of  ground  coffee.  The  clerks  picked 
me  out  of  the  coffee,  and  laid  me  on  a  pile  of  corn  sacks, 
and  then  the  horse  began  to  lay  back  his  ears  and  chase  the 
clerks  out  of  the  tent,  and  it  was  awful  the  way  the  ani 
mal  acted.  After  I  had  recovered  from  the  effects  of  my 
fall  into  the  coffee  barrel,  I  got  up  and  took  the  horse  by 
the  bridle,  and  led  him  out  of  the  gate,  and  up  the  street 
to  headquarters,  with  the  brigade  flag  in  my  hand.  I 
finally  got  to  headquarters  and  left  the  flag,  and  the  colonel 
told  me  he  never  wanted  me  around  brigade  headquarters 
again.  He  said  I  was  a  regular  Jonah,  that  brought  bad 
luck.  I  apologized  the  best  I  could,  told  him  I  would 
never  bother  him  again,  and  led  my  horse  back  to  my  regi 
ment.  The  chaplain  of  my  regiment,  who  had  not  been 
to  the  funeral  with  us,  and  knew  nothing  about  the  circus, 
met  me,  and,  as  usual,  bantered  me  to  trade  horses.  I  felt 
as  though  if  I  could  saw  that  horse  off  on  to  the  chaplain, 
and  fix  him  so  he  could  engage  in  the  circus  business,  life 
would  yet  have  some  charms  for  me,  so  after  some  banter 
ing  we  got  down  to  business.  The  chaplain  asked  me  if  I 
thought  it  would  cause  any  remark  if  he  should  ride  a 
spotted  horse,  and  I  told  him  I  did  not  know  why  it  should, 
if  the  chaplain  behaved  himself.  He  said  he  didn't  know 
but  the  boys  might  think  that  a,  spotted  horse  was  too  gay 
for  a  chaplain.  I  told  him  I  didn't  know  why  a  spotted 
horse  couldn't  be  just  as  solemn  as  any  horse.  He  asked 
me  if  the  horse  had  any  tricks,  and  if  he  was  sound.  I 
told  him  I  had  not  had  him  long,  but  it  seemed  to  me  if 
the  horse  had  any  tricks  I  should  "nave  found  it  out  by  this 


268  HOW   PRIVATE   GEOKGE  W.  PECK 

time,  and  I  knew  he  was  sound,  because  I  jumped  a  fence 
with  him  not  an  hour  ago,  and  he  took  the  fence  just  as 
though  he  had  jumped  fences  all  his  life.  I  asked  ten  dollars 
to  boot,  and  the  chaplain  said  if  I  would  warrant  the  horse 
not  to  have  any  tricks  he  would  take  him.  I  told  him  I 
couldn't  warrant  the  horse  not  to  have  any  tricks,  but  that 
the  colonel  commanding  the  brigade  wanted  my  horse,  and 
he  certainly  would  not  want  a  horse  that  had  tricks.  What 
the  colonel  wanted  was  a  horse  noted  for  its  strict  attention 
to  business.  Then  the  chaplain  said  he  would  trade,  and 
we  changed  saddles,  and  the  chaplain  led  the  spotted  horse 
away,  and  I  was  revenged  for  many  things  the  chaplain  had 
done  me.  When  the  chaplain  led  the  spotted  horse  to  his 
tent,  and  all  the  boys  in  the  regiment  saw  that  I  had  traded 
the  brute  off,  and  they  thought  what  a  pic-nic  they  would 
have  the  first  time  the  chaplain  rode  the  horse  down  town, 
there  was  a  laugh  all  through  the  regiment,  but  nobody 
squealed,  or  told  the  chaplain  what  a  prize  package  he  had 
secured.  I  cannot  account  for  it,  how  I  could  have  coolly 
traded  that  dastardly  horse  off  on  to  the  chaplain,  but  I  was 
young  then.  Now,  after  arriving  at  a  ripe  old  age,  I  would 
not  play  such  a  trick  on  a  chaplain.  The  next  day  there  was 
to  be  a  review,  and  when  the  regiment  was  notified,  I  got 
sick  and  could  not  go.  I  felt  as  though  I  did  not  want  to 
be  a  witness  of  the  chaplain's  attempt  to  exhibit  a  solemn 
demeanor,  on  that  circus  horse.  I  thought  I  should  prob 
ably  die  right  in  my  tracks  if  the  horse  acted  with  him  as 
he  did  with  me,  so  I  remained  in  my  tent  with  a  wet  towel 
on  my  head,  and  saw  the  regiment  ride  out  to  review,  the 
chaplain  on  the  spotted  horse  beside  the  colonel,  not  dream 
ing  that  it  was  going  to  be  the  most  eventful  day  of  his  life. 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  269 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TELLS  How  THE  CHAPLAIN  WAS  PARALYZED  BY  THE  SPOTTED 
CIRCUS-HORSE — I  AM  COURT  MARTIALED  —  I  PLEAD  MY  OWN 
CASE,  AND  AM  ACQUITTED. 

In  the  last  chapter  I  told  of  trading  my  circus-horse  to 
the  chaplain,  and  how  the  chaplain  had  rode  away  with 
the  regiment  for  review,  and  I  remained  in  camp,  pretend 
ing  to  be  sick.  The  result  of  that  scheme  on  my  part  was 
not  all  my  fancy  painted  it.  I  stood  in  front  of  my  tent 
with  a  wet  towel  around  my  head,  and  saw  the  regiment 
return  from  review,  the  chaplain's  spotted  circus  horse 
with  no  rider,  being  led  by  a  colored  man,  the  horse  look 
ing  as  innocent  as  any  horse  I  eve»*  saw.  Where  was  the 
chaplain?  Had  he  been  killed?  I  noticed  half  the  men 
were  laughing  and  it  seemed  to  me  they  wouldn't  laugh  if 
the  good  chaplain  was  dead.  I  also  noticed  that  the  col 
onel  and  his  staff  wore  faces  clouded  with  anger,  and  that 
they  seemed  as  though  they  would  like  to  kill  somebody. 
Before  the  regiment  had  got  fairly  dismounted,  a  sergeant 
and  three  men  marched  to  my  tent,  and  I  was  arrested,  and 
was  informed  that  I  would  be  tried  at  once,  by  court-mar 
tial,  for  conduct  prejudicial  to  good  order  and  military  dis 
cipline.  I  knew  the  sergeant,  and  tried  to  joke  with  him, 
telling  him  to  '"  go  on  with  his  old  ark,  as  there  wasn't  go 
ing  to  be  much  of  a  shower,"  but  he  wouldn't  have  any 
funny  business,  and  kindly  informed  me  that  I  had  proba 
bly  got  to  the  end  of  my  rope,  and  that  I  would  no  doubt 
spend  the  remainder  of  my  term  of  enlistment  in  the  mill* 


270  HOW  PRITATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

tary  prison.  I  asked  him  what  the  row  was  about,  and  he 
said  I  would  find  out  soon  enough.  One  soldier  got  on 
each  side  of  me,  and  one  behind  with  sabers  drawn,  to 
stick  me  with  if  I  attempted  to  get  away,  and  we  started 
for  the  coloneFs  tent.  On  the  way  there,  the  chaplain 
came  towards  us,  covered  with  red  clay,  and  begged  the 
sergeant  to  allow  him  to  kill  me  right  there.  He  was  the 
maddest  truly  good  man  I  ever  saw.  He  fairly  foamed  at 
the  mouth,  and  said,  "  0,  sergeant,  turn  him  loose,  and 
let  me  chew  him  up."  I  said  to  the  sergeant: 

"  Now,  look-a-here,  don't  you  let  that  savage  get  at 
me,  or  he  will  get  hurt.  I  don't  want  to  have  any  trouble 
with  the  church,  but  if  any  regularly  ordained  ministerial 
cannibal  of  a  sky  pilot  attempts  to  chew  me,  he  will  find  a 
good  deal  more  gristle  than  tender  loin,  and  I  will  italicise 
his  nose  so  he  will  look  so  crossed-eyed  that  he  can't  draw 
his  pay." 

My  thus  showing  that  I  was  not  afraid  of  a  non-com 
batant,  seemed  to  have  the  desired  effect,  for  he  spit  on 
his  hands,  jumped  up  and  cracked  his  heels  together,  said 
he  would  wipe  the  Southern  Confederacy  with  my  remains, 
and  he  went  to  his  tent  to  change  his  clothes,  and  get 
ready  for  the  court-martial.  The  guard  took  me  to  the 
colonel's  tent,  and  I  walked  right  in  where  the  colonel  and 
major  and  several  others  were,  and  I  said  "  Hello,"  and 
smiled,  and  extended  my  hand  to  the  colonel.  None  of 
them  helloed,  and  none  of  them  returned  my  smile,  and 
the  colonel  did  not  shake  hands  with  me.  He  said,  how 
ever,  that  I  had  brought  disgrace  on  the  regiment,  and 
broken  the  heart  of  a  noble  man,  the  chaplain.  I  told 
him  I  didn't  think  the  chaplain's  heart  was  very  badly 


PUT   DOW  15    THE   REBELLION.  271 

broke,  as  he  had  just  offered  to  whip  me  in  several  lan 
guages,  and  threatened  to  eat  me.  The  colonel  had  me  sit 
down  on  a  trunk  and  keep  still,  while  the  court-martial 
convened.  It  was  not  many  minutes  before  the  officers 
had  arrived,  and  organized,  the  adjutant  read  the  charges 
and  specifications  against  me.  Not  to  go  into  the  military 
form  of  charges  and  specifications,  the  substance  of  them 
was  that  I  had  with  malice  aforethought,  procured  a  trick- 
horse  from  a  circus,  with  the  intention  of  inducing  the 
chaplain  to  trade  for  it,  with  the  purpose  of  causing 
the  aforesaid  chaplain  to  become  a  spectacle  for  laughter. 
When  the  charges  were  read  I  was  asked  what  I  had  to 
say,  and  I  told  the  Judge  Advocate  it  was  a  condemned 
lie.  That  made  him  mad,  and  he  was  going  to  commence 
whipping  me  where  the  chaplain  left  off,  when  the  colonel 
smoothed  matters  over  by  asking  me  if  I  didn't  mean  to 
plead  fe  not  guilty/'  I  said,  "  Certainly,  not  guilty.  It  is 
false.  I  did  not  secure  the  horse  for  the  purpose  of  saw 
ing  it  off  on  the  chaplain.  I  jayhawked  it,  and  when  I 
found  it  was  not  the  kind  of  a  horse  for  a  modest  fellow 
like  me,  who  didn't  want  to  make  any  display,  I  thought 
I  would  trade  it  to  some  officer  with  gall,  and  the  chaplain 
was  the  first  man  who  struck  me  for  a  trade,  and  he  got  it, 
and  from  his  remarks  to  me,  and  from  these  court-martial 
proceedings,  I  was  satisfied  the  chaplain  did  not  like  the 
horse."  The  officers  laughed  then,  and  I  suppose  they  were 
thinking  of  something  that  happened  to  the  chaplain  on 
review.  The  colonel  asked  me  if  I  wanted  anybody  to  de 
fend  me,  and  I  told  him  I  had  a  printing  office  once  next 
door  to  a  lawyer's  office,  and  I  knew  a  little  about  law,  and 
would  defend  myself.  The  chaplain  came  soon,  and  began 


272  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

to  tell  his  story,  but  I  insisted  that  he  be  sworn,  and  then 
he  proceeded  to  tell  his  tale.  He  said  that  he  was  a  God 
fearing  man,  and  meant  to  do  right,  and  was  willing  to 
take  his  chances  in  the  lottery  of  war,  but  when  a  man  got 
him  to  ride  a  circus  trick-horse,  and  bring  upon  his  sacred 
calling  the  ribald  laughter  of  the  wicked,  he  felt  that  civ 
ilization  was  a  failure.  He  said  he  traded  for  the  spotted 
horse  in  good  faith,  and  that  he  was  particular  to  ask  me 
if  the  horse  had  any  tricks,  and  I  said  he  had  none,  and 
he  traded  on  that  understanding,  that  he  rode  the  afore 
said  horse  to  the  review,  and  as  soon  as  the  aforesaid  horse 
heard  the  band  play,  he  waltzed  out  into  the  middle  of  the 
street,  whirled  around  more  than  fifty  times,  waltzed  into 
an  infantry  regiment,  breaking  the  ranks  of  the  soldiers 
just  as  the  reviewing  officer  came  along,  causing  the  re 
viewing  officer  to  say,  "get  out  of  the  ranks,  you  d — d 
fool,  and  take  that  horse  back  to  the  circus,"  thus  causing 
him,  the  chaplain,  to  be  scandalized.  He  said  he  would 
have  stood  that,  but  the  horse  carried  him  to  a  battery  of 
artillery  which  was  in  position,  and  began  to  jump  over  the 
guns,  and  that  a  gunner  took  a  swab  with  which  he  had 
been  cleaning  a  gun,  and  punched  him,  the  chaplain,  in 
the  face,  covering  his  face  with  burnt  powder  which 
smelled  badly. 

Then  the  horse  carried  him  out  on  the  field  in  front 
of  the  reviewing  officers,  got  up  on  its  hind  feet  and 
walked  for  half  a  block,  making  the  chaplain  appear  as 
though  climbing  up  the  horse's  neck,  and  when  some  of 
the  general's  staff  came  out  to  arrest  him,  the  horse  whirled 
around  and  kicked,  in  every  direction  at  once,  and  broke 
the  saber  of  one  of  the  staff-officers.  That  the  horse  seemed 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION".  273 

to  be  possessed  of  the  devil.  That  he  finally  got  the  horn 
to  go  back  to  the  regiment  where  he  belonged,  but  on  the 
way  he  had  to  pass  brigade  headquarters,  when  the  horse 
stopped  in  front  of  the  commanding  officer  and  sat  down 
like  a  dog,  on  his  hind  parts,  and  tried  to  shake  hands 
with  the  colonel  commanding,  who  was  offended,  and  told 
the  chaplain  he  was  an  ass,  and  to  go  away  with  his 
museum,  or  he  would  have  the  chaplain  put  in  the  guard 
house.  That  a  colored  man  near  the  review  ground  had  a 
ginger  bread  stand,  with  a  sheet  tacked  up  to  keep  the  sun 
off,  and  the  spotted  horse  attempted  to  jump  through  the 
sheet,  evidently  thinking  it  was  a  paper  hoop  in  a  cir 
cus.  And  in  conclusion,  after  making  the  chaplain  so 
mortified  and  ashamed  that  he  wished  he  might  die,  the 
horse  laid  down  in  the  road  and  rolled  over  the  aforesaid 
chaplain,  leaving  him  in  the  road  covered  with  dirt,  while 
the  horse  ran  across  the  street  and  walked  up  a  pair  of 
stairs,  outside  a  store,  went  into  the  rooms  occupied  by  some 
milliners  and  scared  the  women  so  they  put  their  heads 
out  of  the  windows  and  yelled  fire,  and  said  a  regiment  of 
Yankee  cavalry  had  raided  their  homes.  That  the  review 
was  made  a  farce,  the  chaplain  a  laughing  stock,  and  that 
it  took  ten  men  to  get  the  horse  down  stairs,  and  half  the 
regiment  to  console  the  milliners,  and  convince  them  that  no 
harm  was  intended.  He  said  he  demanded  that  I  be  sen 
tenced  to  be  shot. 

The  colonel  asked  me  if  I  had  anything  to  say,  and  1 
asked  permission  to  cross-examine  the  witness.  Permis 
sion  being  granted,  I  asked  the  chaplain  what  his  business 
was.  He  said  he  was  a  minister.  I  asked  him  if  he  didn't 
consider  trading  horses  one  of  the  noblest  professions  ex- 


274  :  .:c~7  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PEOK 

tant.  He  said  he  didn't  know  about  that.  Then  I  asked 
him  ii  he  didn't  take  advantage  of  me  when  I  came  to  tha 
regime  at,  as  a  raw  recruit,  and  trade  me  a  kicking  mule., 
that  made  my  life  a  burden.  He  said  he  remembered  that 
he  traded  me  a  mule.  I  asked  him  if  he  didn't  know  the 
mule  was  balky,  vicious,  and  spavined,  that  it  would  kick' 
its  bes*  friend,  bite  anybody,  that  it  was  so  ugly  that  he 
had  to  put  the  saddle  on  with  a  long  pole,  that  he  warranted 
tha  mule  sound  when  he  knew  it  had  all  the  diseases  that 
were  going. 

He  said  he  objected  to  being  asked  such  questions.,  but 
the  judge-advocate  said  I  had  a  right  to  bring  out  any 
previous  transactions  in  the  horse-trade  line,  as  it  would. 
have  some  effect  in  this  case.  Then  I  asked  him  if  he  didn't 
know  the  horse  he  beat  me  out  of  was  sound,  a  splendid 
rider,  and  that  the  mule  was  the  worst  one  in  the  army.; 
He  admitted  that  he  knew  the  animal  was  not  a  desirable 
animal,  but  he  thought  a  recruit  could  get  along  with  a* 
kicking  mule  better  than  a  chaplain,  I  had  saved  my 
best  shot  for  the  last,  and  I  said,  "  Knowing  the  mule  was 
unsound,  a  vicious  animal,  and  that  my  horse  was  sound 
and  desirable,  and  worth  more  than  a  dozen  such  mules> 
did  you  consider  that  you  was  pursuing  your  calling  as  3 
minister  when  you  gained  my  confidence,  and  not  only 
sawed  the  mule  off  on  to  me,  bereaved  me  of  a  fine 
horse,  but  took  twenty  dollars  of  my  hard-earned  bounty 
money  as  boot  in  the  trade?  In  doing  that  to  an  inno« 
cenii  and  fresh  recruit  who  had  confidence  in  you,  did 
you  not  pavo  the  way  for  me  to  get  even  with  you  on  & 
horse  urade,  and  haven't  I  got  even,  and  do  you  blame  mo 
for  doing  it?"  The  chaplain  was  perspiring  while  1  was 


PUT  DOWX  THE  REBELLION.  275 

asking  the  questions,  and  all  the  officers  were  looking  at 
him  as  though  he  had  caught  a  tartar,  but  he  blushed, 
choked,  and  finally  answered  that  perhaps  he  did  wrong  in 
trading  me  that  mule,  and  he  asked  to  be  forgiven. 

Then  I  turned  to  the  officers  and  said,  "  Gentlemen,  I 
admit  that  I  traded  the  spotted  circus-horse  to  the  chap 
lain.  I  did  it  on  purpose  to  show  him  that  there  is  a  God 
in  Israel.  When  I  came  to  the  regiment,  right  fresh  from 
the  people,  I  needed  salting.  The  boys  all  salted  me  when 
ever  they  got  a  chance,  and  I  took  it  like  a  little  man.  In 
turning  to  the  chaplain  for  comfort,  I  did  not  expect  that 
he  would  salt  me  worse  than  all  of  the  boys  combined,  but 
when  I  found  that  he  had  gone  through  me,  and  taken  ad 
vantage  of  my  guileless  innocence,  and  laughed  at  my  woe 
when  I  found  the  confounded  mule  was  not  all  his  fancy 
had  painted  it,  and  that  it  laid  awake  nights  to  devise  ways 
to  kick  my  head  off,  I  took  a  bloodred  oath  that  before  the 
cruel  war  was  over  I  would  salt  that  chaplain  on  a  horse 
trade,  until  he  would  own  up  the  corn.  I  leave  it  to  you, 
gentlemen,  if  I  have  done  it  or  not.  When  that  spotted 
horse  fell  to  me,  by  the  fortunes  of  war,  I  was  not  long  in 
learning  that  it  was  the  relic  of  a  circus.  I  rode  the  horse 
one  day  last  week  at  a  funeral,  and  it  acted  in  such  a  man 
ner  as  to  almost  wake  up  the  late  lamented.  I  was  made 
the  laughing  stock  of  the  brigade,  and  of  the  town.  _  It 
was  government  property,  and  I  could  not  kill  the  horse, 
and  I  thought  the  time  had  arrived  for  me  to  get  even  with 
my  old  friend.  He  was  mashed  on  my  spotted  horge,  and 
bantered  me  for  a  trade.  Finally  we  traded,  and  I  got  ten 
dollars  to  boot.  The  result  has  been  all  that  I  could  de 
sire.  I  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  demonstrating  to  this 


276  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

truly  good  man  that  all  is  not  gold  that  glitters.  I  have 
shown  him  that  however  spotted  a  man  may  be,  if  he  rides 
a  spotted  circus  horse,  he  will  get  there.  I  will  leave  it  to 
the  chaplain,  now,  if  I  was  not  justified  in  trading  him 
that  horse,  after  what  he  had  done  to  me,  and  will  ask  him 
if  he  was  not  served  perfectly  right,  and  if  in  trading  me 
that  mule  he  did  not  do  to  others  as  he  would  have  others 
do  to  him,  and  if  so,  if  he  does  not  think  the  others  did  it 
to  him  in  great  shape.  I  am  done.  I  leave  my  life  in 
your  hands." 

When  I  quit  they  were  all  laughing  except  the  chap 
lain,  and  there  was  a  quiet  smile  around  his  mouth,  as  he 
thought  of  his  experience  on  the  spotted  horse.  The 
colonel  asked  the  chaplain,  if  he  had  anything  to  say,  and 
he  said  he  had  just  been  thinking  that  he  could  go  over  to 
a  New  Jersey  regiment  and  trade  that  spotted  horse  to  the 
chaplain  of  that  regiment,  and  if  he  could,  he  would  be 
willing  to  drop  the  case.  He  said  that  chaplain  played  a 
mean  trick  on  him  once,  and  he  wanted  to  get  even.  The 
court  martial  acquitted  me,  and  while  we  were  all  taking 
a  drink  with  the  colonel,  the  chaplain  went  out,  and  pretty 
soon  we  saw  his  servant  leading  the  spotted  horse  over  to 
wards  the  camp  of  the  New  Jersey  regiment,  and  later  the 
chaplain  sauntered  off  in  that  direction  on  foot,  as  though 
there  was  some  weighty  subject  on  his  mind.  The  weighty 
subject  was  the  spotted  circus-horse. 

I  do  not  suppose  any  incident  ever  caused  so  much  talk 
as  did  the  chaplain's  circus.  The  boys  were  talking  and 
laughing  about  it  in  every  company  all  that  afternoon,  and 
when  it  was  found  that  I  had  not  been  punished,  for  trad 
ing  the  horse  to  him,  the  boys  were  wild.  They  wanted  to 


PUT  DOWN  THE  KEBELLION.  277 

show  their  appreciation  of  the  fun  I  had  given  them,  so  a 
lot  of  them  got  together  to  give  me  a  sort  of  reception. 
They  sent  for  me  to  come  over  to  Co.  D.,  and  when  I  got 
over  there  they  grabbed  me  and  carried  me  off  on  their 
shoulders.  I  felt  proud  to  see  them  so  joyous  and  friendly, 
until  they  put  me  in  a  blanket  and  tossed  me  up  into  the 
trees,  and  caught  me  in  the  blanket  as  I  came  down. 
Of  all  the  sensations  I  ever  experienced,  that  of  being  tos 
sed  up  in  a  blanket  was  the  worst.  I  tried  to  laugh,  at 
first,  but  it  became  serious,  as  I  went  into  the  air  twenty 
feet,  let  loose  of  the  air  and  came  down,  expecting  to  be 
crushed  maimed,  killed.  My  breath  forsook  me,  I  was 
dizzy,  but  I  struck  the  blanket  easy,  and  after  being 
sent  up  a  dozen  times  they  let  me  go,  and  my  reception 
was  over. 


278  .HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

MINGLED  REMINISCENCES  —  I  RELATE  A  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER  STEAM 
BOAT  EXPERIENCE. 

Long  before  this  I  should  have  related  a  little  experi 
ence  I  had  on  my  first  journey  south,  when  I  was  a  fresh 
recruit.  After  leaving  Wisconsin,  in  the  winter,  a  lot  of 
us  recruits  were  corralled  at  Benton  Barracks,  St.  Louis, 
and  for  six  weeks  we  had  a  picnic.  There  were  about  fifty 
of  us,  that  belonged  to  the  cavalry,  our  regiments  being 
down  the  Mississippi  river,  and  the  commanding  officer  of 
the  barracks  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  a  chance  to  send  us 
to  our  regiments.  I  have  often  wondered  what  he  waited 
six  weeks  for,  when  we  were  not  doing  any  duty  in  camp, 
and  were  making  him  trouble  enough  every  day  and  every 
night  to  turn  his  hair  gray.  He  was  a  Colonel  Bonneville, 
if  I  remember  right,  a  regular  army  officer  of  French  ex 
traction.  Anyway,  he  always  swore  at  us  in  French.  The 
camp  was  run  in  a  slack  sort  of  a  way,  and  it  was  easy  for 
us  to  get  out  and  go  down  town,  or  wander  off  into  the 
country,  and,  as  we  had  plenty  of  money,  and  were  dressed 
better  than  soldiers  in  active  service,  we  were  welcome  to 
all  the  saloons,  and  painted  old  St.  Louis  all  the  colors  of 
the  rainbow,  returned  to  the  barracks  at  unseasonable 
hours,  crawled  through  the  fence  and  went  to  our  quarters 
howling,  waking  up  the  old  general,  who  invariably  or 
dered  the  provost-guard  to  arrest  us,  which  the  provost- 
guard  invariably  didn't  do,  for  some  reason  or  other.  The 
old  colonel  was  fast  aging,  in  trying  to  lead  a  quiet  life  in 


FtTT  -DOWN   THE   REBELLION.  279 

the  vicinity  of  "  dose  d d  cavalry  regruits,"  and  he  said 

he  would  order  them  all  shot  if  they  didn't  behave.  Ben- 
ton  Barracks  was  the  greatest  place  for  the  breeding  of 
rats  that  I  ever  saw.  In  every  house  there  were  millions 
of  them,,  and  at  night  they  were  out  in  full  force.  One 
night  our  crowd  of  recruits,  about  forty  in  number,  had 
been  down  to  St.  Louis  on  a  painting  expedition,  and  it 
was  midnight  when  camp  was  reached .  Every  recruit  had 
a  revolver,  and  it  was  decided  that  if  the  rats  insulted  us, 
as  they  had  often  done  before,  we  would  shoot  them.  It 
was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night,  as  still  as  death,  and  we 
could  almost  hear  the  snoring  of  the  excitable  colonel  in 
his  house  across  the  parade  ground.  As  we  came  near  our 
barrack,  a  few  thousand  rats  crossed  our  path,  and  I  drew 
my  revolver  and  fired  at  a  large  one  that  seemed  unusually 
impudent,  and  the  rest  of  the  crowd  opened  fire,  and  there 
was  a  battle  in  no  time.  A  bugler  got  out  and  blowed 
some  call  that  I  did  not  know,  a  drum  sounded  a  continu 
ous  roll,  men  rushed  out  and  formed  in  line,  and  before  we 
had  fired  the  six  charges  from  our  revolvers,  the  Invalid 
Corps  came  hobbling  across  the  parade  ground,  the  colonel 
behind  them  with  his  shirt  on,  his  pants  in  his  hand,  and 
swearing  in  French,  and  ordering  the  troops  to  arrest  the 
whole  crowd  of  recruits.  We  went  right  in  the  barrack, 
and  retired,  as  soon  as  the  troops  showed  up,  and  were 
snoring,  with  smoking  revolvers  under  our  pillows,  when 
the  guard  entered. 

The  colonel  came  in  with  the  guard,  and  then  put  on 
his  pants,  after  which  he  woke  up  some  of  us,  and  asked 
what  was  the  cause  of  the  firing.  Every  recruit  swore 
that  he  had  not  fired  a  shot,  but  that  he  had  heard  some 


280  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

firing  over  the  fence,  on  the  outside,  at  a  road-house  and 
saloon,  where  bad  men  from  St.  Louis  congregated  and 
drank  to  excess.  It  seemed  very  hard  to  thus  lie  to  so 
estimable  a  gentleman  as  the  colonel,  but  as  he  was  only 
half-dressed,  and  sleepy,  and  excited,  it  didn't  seem  as 
though  the  lies  ought  to  count.  But  they  did.  The  col 
onel  apologized  for  waking  us  up,  when  we  were  enjoying 
our  much-needed  rest,  and  he  went  away  with  the  guard. 
Then  we  all  got  up  and  danced  a  can-can,  in  our  army 
underclothes,  passed  a  series  of  resolutions  endorsing  the 
colonel  as  one  of  the  ablest  officers  in  the  army,  recom 
mended  that  he  be  promoted  to  brigadier-general  at  the 
first  opportunity,  gave  three  cheers  and  a  tiger  for  the 
Union,  and  went  to  bed.  That  is  one  thing  that  we 
recruits  always  come  out  strong  in,  i.  e.,  three  cheers  for 
the  Union.  We  had  enlisted  to  save  the  Union,  and  as 
there  was  no  fighting  that  we  could  do,  during  our  stay  at 
St.  Louis,  whenever  we  got  a  chance  we  gave  three  cheers 
for  the  Union.  Sometimes  it  was  not  appreciated,  how 
ever.  I  remember  one  evening  our  crowd  went  into  a 
saloon  and  ordered  beer  all  around,  and  after  we  had 
drank  it,  I  proposed  three  cheers  for  the  Union,  which  we 
gave  in  a  hearty  manner,  and  went  out  without  paying 
for  the  beer.  You  would  hardly  credit  it,  but  the  saloon 
keeper,  an  Irishman  named  Oppenheimer,  became  offended, 
and  wanted  us  to  pay  cash  for  the  beer.  The  boys  wanted 
me  to  reason  with  him,  and  I  began  by  asking  him  if  he 
was  a  loyal  man,  and  he  said  he  was.  Then  I  asked  him 
if  he  didn't  believe  in  supporting  the  Union.  He  said  he 
did,  but  he  couldn't  pay  the  brewer  for  his  beer  by  giving 
three  cheers  for  the  TJniou.  He  had  to  put  up  cash.  J 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  281 

confess  that  his  remarks  made  quite  an  impression  on  me, 
as  I  had  not  thought  of  it  in  that  light  before.  I  pro 
posed  that  we  give  three  cheers  for  Oppenheimer,  which 
was  done,  and  I  thought  that  would  settle  it,  but  he  in 
sisted  on  having  cash.  I  told  the  boys,  and  they  said  he 
was  a  rebel.  I  told  Oppenheimer,  and  he  got  out  a  wooden 
bung-starter,  and  said  he  could  clean  out  the  whole  party. 
Finally  we  compromised,  in  this  way.  "We  had  given  two 
rounds  of  cheer,  one  for  the  Union  and  one  for  Oppen 
heimer,  which  were  a  total  loss,  so  it  was  agreed  that  if 
Oppenheimer  would  give  three  cheers  for  the  Union  and 
three  for  us  we  would  pay  him  for  the  beer,  if  he 
would  agree  to  set  'em  up  for  us,  at  his  own  expense. 
He  agreed,  and  then  we  tried  to  get  him  to  offset  the 
beer  he  was  going  to  give  us,  for  the  beer  we  had  drank, 
and  not  pay  him  for  that  we  had  consumed.  That,  to 
any  business  man,  we  thought,  would  seem  fair,  but  he 
wouldn't  have  it.  So,  after  he  had  returned  our  cheers 
to  us,  we  paid  him,  and  then  he  treated.  I  mention  thia 
to  tshow  the  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life,  and  the  difficulties 
of  inculcating  business  methods  into  the  minds  of  the 
saloon-keepers.  Oppenheimer  meant  well,  but  he  did  not 
appreciate  cheers  for  the  Union.  He  got  so,  after  that 
when  we  came  in  his  saloon,  in  a  gang,  he  would  say, 
"Poys,  of  you  dondt  gif  any  jeers  fun  dot  Union,  I  set  'em 
oop,"  and  we  would  swallow  our  cheers  for  the  Union,  and 
his  beer. 

The  next  day  after  the  battle  of  the  rats,  an  order  was 
issued  for  the  recruits  to  board  the  steamer  "  City  of  Mem 
phis,"  and  go  down  the  river  to  join  our  several  regiments, 
in  the  vicinity  of  I^ew  Orleans,  In  a  few  hpurs  we 


282  HOW  PKIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

drawn  rations  to  last  a  week,  and  were  on  board  the 
steamer,  and  had  started  down  stream.  I  think  every  sol 
dier  that  is  now  alive  will  remember  that  when  he  took  his 
first  trip  on  a  transport,  as  a  recruit,  during  the  war,  he 
labored  under  the  impression  that  he  owned  the  boat,  or 
at  least  a  controlling  interest  in  it.  That  was  a  very  natu 
ral  feeling.  The  opinions  of  the  steamboat  officials,  it  will 
be  remembered,  were  different.  I  had  never  been  on  a  large 
steamboat  before,  and  after  tying  my  knapsack  and  other 
baggage  to  a  wood-pile  on  the  lower  deck,  after  I  had  vain 
ly  attempted  to  induce  the  proper  official  to  give  me  checks 
for  my  baggage,  I  began  to  climb  up  stairs,  and  soon  found 
myself  on  top  of  the  Texas,  beside  the  smoke  stack,  view 
ing  the  ever  changing  scenery  of  the  grand  old  Mississippi. 
I  was  drinking  in  the  scenery,  and  the  fresh  air,  and  won 
dering  if  it  could  be  possible  that  there  could  be  war,  and 
killing,  anywhere  in  this  broad  land,  when  all  was  so  peace 
ful  and  beautiful  on  the  river,  when  I  felt  something  strike 
me  on  the  pantaloons  most  powerfully,  and  I  looked  around 
and  a  gentleman  was  just  removing  a  large  sized  boot  from 
my  person .  I  was  about  to  reprove  him  for  kicking  me,  a 
total  stranger,  who  had  not  even  presented  letters  of  intro 
duction  to  me,  when  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  was  deep  down 
in  his  chest,  "  get  down  below."  I  did  not  feel  like  argu 
ing  with  a  man  of  so  violent  a  nature,  and  I  went  down 
the  narrow  stairs,  after  he  had  said  he  would  throw  me 
overboard  if  I  did  not  hurry.  I  learned  afterwards  that 
he  was  the  mate  of  the  steamboat.  I  could  see  that  he  had 
mistaken  me  for  a  common  soldier,  which  I  would  not  ad 
mit  was  the  case,  but  I  went  down  stairs,  probably  looking 
hurt.  I  was  hurt.  I  went  into  the  cabin  and  sat  down  or 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLION.  283 

one  of  the  sofas,  to  think,  when  a  colored  person  told  me 
to  get  off  the  sofa.  As  he  seemed  to  know  what  he  was 
talking  about  I  got  off.  I  saw  a  bar,  where  officers  of  the 
army  and  passengers  were  drinking,  and  I  went  up  and 
asked  for  a  whisky  sour,  thinking  that  would  relieve  the 
pain  and  cause  my  injured  feelings  to  improve .  The  bar 
tender  told  me  to  go  out  on  deck  and  I  could  get  plain 
whisky  through  a  window  where  the  negro  deck  hands  got 
their  drinks,  but  I  could  not  drink  with  gentlemen.  That 
was  the  first  day  that  I  realized  that  in  becoming  a  soldier 
I  had  descended  to  a  level  with  negro  deck  hands  and 
roustabouts,  and  could  not  be  allowed  to  associate  with 
gentlemen.  Soon  the  gong  rung  for  supper,  and  I  went 
into  the  cabin  and  sat  down  to  the  table  for  a  square  meal, 
the  other  seats  being  filled  with  army  officers  and  passes 
gers.  I  was  going  to  give  my  order  to  a  waiter,  when  he 
called  an  officer  of  the  boat,  who  told  me  to  get  up  from 
the  table  and  go  below,  as  the  cabin  was  intended  for  gen 
tlemen  and  not  soldiers.  My  idea  was  to  kick  against  being 
turned  out,  but  I  thought  of  the  mate's  boot>  and  I  went 
out,  went  down  on  the  lower  deck  with  the  recruits,  and 
eat  some  bread  and  meat.  I  was  rapidly  becoming  crushed. 
I  talked  my  experience  over  with  the  boys,  and  they  all 
agreed  with  me  that  the  way  we  were  treated  was  an  out 
rage  on  American  soldiers,  which  we  would  not  stand.  We 
began  to  wonder  where  we  were  going  to  sleep,  when  I  re 
membered  seeing  state-rooms  on  the  deck  above,  with 
berths,  and  it  seemed  to  me  they  must  be  intended  for  us, 
so  we  agreed  to  go  up  and  go  into  the  state-rooms  from  the 
doors  that  opened  out  on  deck,  believing  that  those  who 
got  in  fi/st  would  be  allowed  to  occupy  them.  About  fifty 


284  HOW   PEIVATE   GEOEGE   W.  PECK 

of  us  got  into  state-rooms,  while  the  officers  and  passengers 
were  playing  poker  in  the  cabin.  I  was  asleep,  when  I 
heard  a  noise  out  on  deck,  and  raising  up  in  my  berth  I 
looked  over  the  transom  and  saw  about  twenty  of  the  re 
cruits  being  driven  along  by  officers  of  the  boat,  kicks  and 
cuffs,  and  loud  talking  being  the  order.  "  Pll  teach  you 
brutes  to  steal  the  beds  of  passengers  on  this  boat.  You 
dirty  whelps,  to  presume  to  sleep  in  beds.  Get  down  stairs 
and  sleep  on  the  wood-pile  with  the  niggers,"  shouted  the 
captain. 

If  there  was  going  to  be  any  fuss  about  it,  I  didn't  want 
to  stay  in  the  state-room.  I  didn't  want  to  be  broke  of  my 
rest,  of  course,  but  if  it  was  not  customary  for  common 
soldiers  to  indulge  in  such  luxuries,  I  would  go  out.  Just 
then  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door  leading  into  the  cabin, 
and  I  heard  a  female  voice  say,  "Powtaw,  I  am  afraid  one 
of  those  dirty  soljaws  has  got  into  my  state-room,"  and  then 
I  heard  the  mate's  voice  say,  "  Wait  till  I  get  at  him."  Of 
course,  under  those  circumstances  I  could  not  remain.  No 
gentleman  would  occupy  a  lady's  birth,  and  cause  her  to  sit 
up  all  night.  To  be  sure  there  were  two  berths,  and  I 
could  remain  in  the  upper  one,  and  she  could  turn  in  be 
low,  and  I  would  turn  my  face  to  the  wall  and  not  look, 
but  I  doubted  if  a  lady,  who  was  a  perfect  stranger,  and 
whose  opinion  of  soldiers  was  so  pronounced,  could  com 
promise  on  such  a  basis,  so  when  the  mate  knocked  at  the 
door  I  took  my  pants  and  shoes  and  went  out  the  door 
leading  on  deck,  and  went  below,  without  being  discovered. 
I  found  my  companions,  who  had  been  routed  out  of  their 
beds,  dressing  themselves  as  best  they  could  by  the  light 
from  the  t urnace,  when  the  stokers  would  put  in  wood,  and 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  285 

they  were  about  as  mad  as  I  was.  The  treatment  we  had 
received  was  not  what  we  had  a  right  to  expect  when  we 
enlisted.  We  decided  to  set  up  all  night,  and  growl  and 
discuss  the  situation.  Several  of  the  recruits  made  re 
marks  that  were  very  scathing,  and  the  officials  of  the  boat 
were  held  up  to  scorn,  and  charged  with  inhumanity.  We 
sat  there  till  daylight,  and  then  organized  an  indignation 
meeting,  and  appointed  a  committee  to  draft  resolutions 
indicative  of  the  sense  of  the  meeting.  I  had  been  light 
ning  on  resolutions  before  I  enlisted,  having  attended  sev 
eral  county  conventions,  and  I  was  appointed  to  draft  the 
resolutions.  As  near  as  I  can  remember  the  following 
were  the  words: 

"  Whereas,  The  undersigned,  members  of  the  army  of 
the  union,  in  the  course  of  our  duty  as  soldiers,  have  been 
ordered  to  proceed  to  our  several  regiments  down  the  Mis 
sissippi  river,  on  board  of  the  '  City  of  Memphis/  and, 

"  Whereas,  We  have  been  treated  by  the  officers  of  the 
aforesaid  boat  more  like  animals  than  human  beings,  in  be 
ing  deprived  of  luxuries  to  which  we  have  been  accustomed, 
have  been  driven  from  the  public  dining-table,  driven  from 
our  beds  at  the  dead  hour  of  night,  that  shoulder-strapped 
officers  might  be  made  comfortable,  and  kicked  down 
stairs,  therefore,  be  it 

"Resolved,  That  we  demand  of  the  captain  of  the  steamer 
'  City  of  Memphis/  that  we  be  allowed  the  same  privileges 
on  this  boat  that  others  enjoy.  e  We  hold  these  truths  to 
be  self-evident/  that  one  man  is  just  as  good  as  another, 
no  matter  what  his  rank.  We  demand  ^that  we  be  allowed 
to  eat  at  the  table  in  the  cabin,  to  sleep  in  the  state-rooms, 
to  drink  at  the  bar  if  we  so  elect,  and  to  go  to  any  place  on 


286  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

the  boat  that  other  passengers  are  allowed,  and  that  we  be 
treated  like  white  men,  which  we  have  not  up  to  the  adop 
tion  of  these  resolutions. 

"Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  these  resolutions  be  presented 
to  the  captain  of  the  boat,  that  a  copy  be  sent  to  the  secre 
tary  of  war,  and  that  the  resolutions  be  published  in  the 
newspapers. " 

When  I  read  the  resolutions  to  the  boys  they  were 
passed  unanimously,  after  a  few  amendments  had  been 
voted  down.  One  of  the  boys  wanted  a  resolution  passed 
demanding  that  the  mate  be  discharged,  and  one  moved 
the  captain  be  requested  to  apologize.  I  argued  that  if  the 
captain  received  the  resolutions  in  the  proper  spirit,  and 
acceded  to  our  demand,  that  would  be  an  apology  in  itself, 
and  in  that  case  the  mate  would  probably  resign.  I  was 
appointed  one  of  a  committee  of  three  to  wait  on  the  cap 
tain,  and  read  the  resolutions  to  him,  after  the  boys  had 
all  signed  them.  I  had  rather  some  one  else  had  been  ap 
pointed,  as  I  had  been  kicked  once  already,  but  the  boys 
said  it  needed  somebody  that  was  equal  to  making  a  little 
speech,  as  it  would  be  necessary  to  say  something  before 
reading  the  resolutions.  They  also  said  it  needed  a  man 
with  plenty  of  gall,  one  that  was  not  afraid  to  stand  up  be 
fore  the  world  and  ask  for  our  rights.  I  felt  flattered  at 
being  selected,  but  I  took  the  precaution  to  place  a  gunny- 
sack,  nicely  folded  up,  in  the  seat  of  my  pants,  because  1 
didn't  know  what  might  happen.  After  breakfast,  I  took 
the  committee  and  the  resolutions,  and  went  up  into  the 
cabin,  and  told  a  colored  man  that  he  might  tell  the  cap 
tain  that  a  committee  wished  an  audience  with  him.  He 
was  playing  poker  in  the  Indies'  cabiPj  and  I  have  always 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  287 

thought  he  had  an  idea  there  was  a  committee  of  passen 
gers  who  wanted  to  present  him  with  a  gold  headed  cane, 
a  thing  that  was  often  done  on  the  boats.  Any  way  he 
came  along  smiling,  and  when  the  nigger  pointed  me  out, 
and  the  captain  noticed  that  I  had  a  large  paper  in  my 
hand,  he  said,  "What  is  it,  gentlemen?"  This  was  the 
first  time  I  had  been  alluded  to  in  that  manner  since  I  en 
listed.  I  asked  him  to  be  seated,  and  he  sat  down  on  a 
lounge,  and  I  proceeded.  I  forgot  to  make  any  speech,  but 
went  right  at  the  w  her  eases  at  once.  I  say  the  captain 
smiled  when  he  came  up.  Of  course,  reading  the  resolu 
tions,  as  I  was,  I  could  not  see  his  face  change,  but  after 
wards  one  of  the  committee  told  me  about  it.  I  could  not 
tell  that  a  storm  was  coming.  I  noticed  that  quite  a  num 
ber  of  people  had  collected  around  the  captain,  from  curi 
osity,  I  supposed.  I  had  just  got  to  the  last  resolution, 
where  it  spoke  of  sending  a  copy  to  the  secretary  of  war, 
when  there  was  a  howl.  The  captain  got  up  and  grabbed 
me  by  the  throat,  while  somebody  else  took  me  by  the  hind 
legs.  As  we  went  towards  the  door,  I  noticed  other  men 
were  carrying  the  rest  of  the  committee.  My  idea  was  that 
they  would  throw  us  overboard,  and  as  I  could  not  swim, 
I  closed  my  eyes  and  said,  "Now  I  lay  me."  The  stairs 
leading  to  the  lower  deck  were  covered  with  brass.  I  remem 
ber  that  distinctly,  because  I  rode  down  the  stairs  on  the 
small  of  my  back,  and  we  had  a  committee  meeting  at  the 
foot  cf  the  stairs.  I  brought  up  on  top  of  the  rest  of  the 
committee.  We  sat  there  a  moment,  and  decided,  unani 
mously,  that  we  had  been  unceremoniously  chucked  down 
stairs,  resolutions  and  all,  and  we  picked  ourselves  up  and 
limped  back  to  where  our  companions  were,  and  so  re- 


288  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

ported.  The  expedition  was  a  total  failure,  for  in  a  short 
time  a  notice  was  tacked  on  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  stating 
that  all  enlisted  men  were  forbidden  from  occupying  any 
portion  of  the  boat  except  the  lower  deck,  and  if  one  was 
found  above  that  deck,  he  would  be  turned  over  to  the 
first  army  post,  a  prisoner.  So  we  remained  on  the  lower 
deck,  and  took  it  out  abusing  the  officers,  and  hoping  the 
boat  would  blow  up.  But  the  scenery  was  just  as  nice 
from  the  lower  deck. 


PUT  DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  289 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

OUK  PARTY  OF  RECRUITS  OWN  THE  EARTH  —  WE  LIVE  HIGH,  GIVE 
A  BALL,  AND  GO  TO  THE  GUARD-HOUSE  —  AND  ARE  ARRESTED 

BY  COLORED  TROOPS. 

• 

Let's  see,  I  forget  whether  I  have  ever  told  about  getting 
strung  up  on  a  bayonet,  near  New  Orleans,  when  I  first 
went  south  as  a  recruit.  It  was  before  I  had  joined  my 
regiment,  and  I  was  with  a  gang  of  recruits,  all  looking  for 
the  regiments  we  had  enlisted  in.  We  had  come  down 
from  St.  Louis  on  a  steamboat,  our  regiments  being  scat 
tered  all  over  the  Department  of  the  Gulf.  We  were  not 
in  any  particular  hurry  to  find  our  regiments,  as  the  longer 
we  kept  away  from  them  the  less  duty  we  would  have  to 
do.  I  do  not  think,  out  of  the  whole  forty  recruits,  there 
was  one  who  was  in  the  least  hurry  to  find  his  regiment, 
and  none  of  them  would  have  known  their  regiments  if 
they  had  seen  them,  unless  somebody  told  them.  They 
had  enlisted  just  as  it  happened,  all  of  them  hoping  the 
war  would  be  over  before  they  found  where  they  belonged. 
They  didn't  know  anybody  in  their  respective  regiments, 
hence  there  were  no  ties  binding  them.  But  they  had 
been  together  for  several  months,  as  recruits,  until  all  had 
got  well  acquainted,  and  if  they  could  have  been  formed 
into  a  company,  for  service  together,  they  might  have  done 
pretty  good  fighting.  The  crowd  was  becoming  smaller, 
as  every  day  or  two  some  recruit  would  come  and  bid  us  all 
good  bye.  He  had  actually  stumbled  on  to  his  regiment, 
and  when  the  officers  of  an  old  regiment,  in  examining 


290  BOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

recruits,  found  one  assigned  to  his  regiment,  he  never  took 
his  eyes  off  the  recruit  until  he  was  landed.  I  have  seen 
some  very  affecting  partings,  when  one  of  our  gang  would 
find  where  he  belonged  and  had  to  leave  us,  perhaps  never 
to  meet  again.  The  gang  was  rapidly  dropping  apart,  and 
when  we  got  to  New  Orleans  there  were  only  twenty  or  so 
left.  We  reported  to  the  commanding  officer,  and  he  quar 
tered  us  at  Carrollton,  near  the  city,  in  what  had  once 
been  a  beer-garden  and  dance-house.  We  slept  on  the 
floor  of  the  dance-house,  cooked  our  meals  out  in  the  gar- 
Ren,  spread  our  food  on  the  old  beer  tables,  and  imagined 
fre  were  proprietors  of  the  place,  or  guests  of  the  govern 
ment.  We  always  ordered  beer  or  expensive  wines  with 
»ur  meals.  Not  that  we  ever  got  any  beer  or  wine,  because 
the  beer  garden  was  deserted,  but  we  put  on  a  great  deal 
of  style. 

We  found  a  lot  of  champagne  bottles  out  in  the  back 
yard,  and  I  do  not  think  I  ever  took  a  meal  there  without 
having  a  champagne  bottle  sitting  beside  me  on  the  table, 
and  when  any  citizens  were  passing  along  the  street  we 
would  take  up  the  bottles,  look  at  the  label  in  a  scrutiniz 
ing  way,  as  though  not  exactly  certain  in  our  minds  whether 
we  were  getting  as  good  wine  as  we  were  paying  for.  The 
old  empty  bottles  gave  us  a  standing  in  Carrollton  society 
that  nothing  else  could  have  given  us.  Some  of  the  boys 
got  so  they  could  imitate  the  popping  of  a  champagne  cork 
to  perfection,  by  placing  one  finger  in  the  mouth,  prying  the 
cheek  around  on  one  side,  and  letting  it  fly  open  suddenly. 
We  would  have  several  of  the  boys  with  aprons  on,  and 
when  anybody  was  passing  on  the  street,  one  of  us  would 
call,  "Waiter  open  a  bottle  of  that  extra  dry."  The 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  291 

waiter  would  say,  <e  Certainly,  sah,"  take  a  bottle  between 
his  knees,  run  his  finger  in  his  mouth  and  make  it  pop,  and 
then  pretend  to  pour  out  the  champagne  in  glasses,  imita 
ting  the  "fizzing"  perfectly.  It  was  the  extra  dryest 
champagne  that  I  ever  had.  But  all  that  foolishness  had 
the  desired  effect.  It  convinced  the  citizens  of  Carrollton 
that  we  were  no  ordinary  soldiers.  We  were  all  nicely 
dressed,  had  no  guards,  and  apparently  no  officers,  had 
plenty  of  money,  which  we  spent  freely  at  the  stores,  and 
the  impression  soon  got  out  that  we  were  on  some  special 
service,  and  there  was,  of  course,  much  curiosity  to  know 
our  business.  I  learned  that  we  were  looked  upon  as  se 
cret  service  men,  and  I  told  the  boys  about  it,  and  advised 
them  not  to  tell  that  we  were  recruits,  but  to  put  on  an  air 
of  mystery,  and  we  would  have  fun  while  we  remained. 
One  day  an  oldish  gentleman  who  lived  near,  and  who  had 
a  fine  orange  plantation,  or  grove,  toward  which  we  had 
cast  longing  eyes,  called  at  the  dance-house  where  we  were 
quartered.  We  had  just  finished  our  frugal  meal,  and  the 
empty  bottles  were  being  taken  away.  He  addressed  me, 
and  said,  "  Good  day,  Colonel."  I  responded  as  best  I 
could,  and  invited  him  to  be  seated.  I  apologized  for  not 
offering  him  a  glass  of  champagne,  but  told  him  we  had 
cracked  the  last  bottle,  and  would  not  have  any  more  until 
the  next  day,  as  I  had  only  that  morning  requested  my 
friend,  the  general  commanding  at  New  Orleans,  to  send 
me  a  fresh  supply,  which  he  would  do  at  once,  I  had  no 
doubt.  Well,  you  ought  to  have  seen  the  boys  try  to  keep 
from  laughing,  stuffing  handkerchiefs  in  their  mouths, 
etc.  But  not  a  man  laughed.  The  old  citizen  said  it  was 
lio  matter,  as  he  would  drop  in  the  next  day,  and  drink 


292  HOW    PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

with  us.  We  talked  about  the  war,  and  it  is  my  impression 
he  was  anxious  for  us  to  believe  he  was  a  loyal  man.  But 
after  a  while  he  asked  me  what  particular  duty  I  was  on, 
there  at  Carrollton.  I  hesitated  a  moment,  and  finally  told 
him  that  I  hoped  he  would  excuse  me  for  not  telling  him, 
bat  the  fact  was  it  would  be  as  much  as  my  "  commission" 
would  be  worth  to  unfold  any  of  my  plans.  I  told  him 
that  time  alone  would  reveal  the  object  of  our  being  there, 
and  until  such  time  as  my  government  thought  it  best  to 
make  it  public,  it  was  my  duty  as  an  "officer,"  to  keep 
silent.  He  said  certainly,  that  was  all  right,  and  he  ad 
mired  me  for  keeping  my  own  counsel.  (I  was  probably  the 
highest  private  and  rawest  recruit  in  the  army.)  He  said 
there  was  a  natural  curiosity  on  the  part  of  the  people  of 
Carrollton  to  know  who  we  were,  as  we  lived  so  high,  and 
seemed  such  thorough  gentlemen.  I  admitted  that  we 
were  thorough  gentlemen,  and  thanked  him  for  the  high 
opinion  that  the  cultured  people  of  Carrollton  had  of  us. 
He  wound  up  by  pointing  to  his  orange  grove,  and  said  he 
would  consider  it  a  special  favor  if  we  would  consider  our 
selves  perfectly  free  to  go  there  and  help  ourselves  at  any 
time,  and  particularly  that  evening,  as  a  number  of  young 
people  would  be  at  his  house  for  a  quiet  dance.  I  told  him 
that  a  few  of  us  would  certainly  be  present,  and  thanked 
him  kindly.  When  he  was  gone  I  told  the  boys,  and  they 
wanted  to  give  three  cheers,  but  I  got  them  to  keep  still, 
and  we  talked  all  the  afternoon  of  the  soft  snap  we  had 
struck,  and  cleaned  up  for  the  party.  My  intention  was 
to  pick  out  half  a  dozen  of  the  best  dressed  recruits,  those 
that  could  make  a  pretty  fair  showing  in  society  to  go  with 
me,  but  they  all  wanted  to  go,  and  there  was  no  way  to 


PUT   DOWST  THE   REBELLION.  293 

prevent  it,  so  all  but  one  Irishman,  that  we  hired  to  stay 
and  watch  our  camp,  went.  Well,  we  ate  oranges  fresh 
from  the  trees,  joined  in  the  dance,  ate  refreshments,  and 
drank  the  old  gentleman's  wine,  and  had  a  good  time, 
made  a  good  impression  on  the  ladies,  and  went  back  to 
camp  at  midnight.  On  the  way  over  to  the  party  I  told 
the  boys  the  gentleman  was  coming  to  see  us  the  next  day, 
and  we  should  have  to  get  a  bottle  of  champagne  some 
where,  to  treat  him,  as  I  had  told  him  we  expected  some 
more  up  from  the  city.  When  we  came  back  from  the 
party  a  German  recruit  pulled  a  bottle  of  champagne  out 
of  his  pocket,  which  he  had  stolen  from  the  man's  house  in 
order  to  treat  him  with  the  next  day.  The  gentleman 
came  over  to  our  quarters  the  next  day,  and  we  opened  our 
bottle,  and  he  drank  to  our  very  good  health,  though  I 
thought  he  looked  at  the  label  on  the  bottle  pretty  close. 
For  a  week  we  frequented  the  gentleman's  orange  grove 
every  day,  and  ate  oranges  to  our  heart's  content. 

Several  times  during  the  week  we  were  invited  to  differ 
ent  houses,  where  we  boys  became  quite  interested  in  the 
fair  girls  of  Louisiana.  It  was  ten  days  from  the  time  we 
settled  in  the  beer  garden,  and  we  had  kept  our  secret 
well.  Nobody  in  Carrollton  knew  that  we  were  raw  re 
cruits  that  had  never  seen  a  day  of  service,  but  the  im 
pression  was  still  stronger  than  ever  that  we  were  pets  of 
the  government.  We  had  an  old  map  of  the  United  States 
that  we  had  borrowed  at  a  saloon,  and  during  the  day  we 
would  hang  the  map  up  and  surround  it,  while  I  pointed" 
out  imaginary  places  to  attack.  This  we  would  do  while 
people  were  passing.  Everything  was  working  splendidly, 
ind  we  decided  to  give  a  party.  We  hired  a  band  to  play 


294  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

in  the  dance  house,  ordered  refreshments,  and  invited 
about  forty  ladies  and  gentlemen  to  attend.  The  day  we 
were  to  give  the  party  we  sent  a  recruit  down  town  to  draw 
rations,  and  he  told  everybody  what  a  high  old  time  we 
recruits  were  having  at  Carrollton.  The  commanding 
officer  heard  of  it,  and,  probably  having  forgotten  that  we 
were  up  there  waiting  to  be  sent  to  our  regiments  he  sent 
a  peremptory  order  for  us  to  report  at  New  Orleans  before 
noon  of  that  day.  How  could  we  report  at  noon,  when  we 
weie  going  to  give  a  party  at  night  ?  It  was  simply  im 
possible,  and  I,  as  a  sort  of  brevet  corporal  in  charge,  sent 
a  man  down  town  to  tell  the  commanding  officer  that  we 
had  an  engagement  that  night,  and  couldn't  come  before 
the  next  day.  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  improper  to  send 
regrets  to  a  commanding  officer  when  ordered  to  do  any 
thing.  The  man  I  sent  down  to  New  Orleans  came  back 
and  I  asked  him  what  the  general  said.  The  man  said  he 
read  the  note  and  said,  "The  hell  they  can't  come  till  to 
morrow.  The  impudence  of  the  recruits.  They  will  come 
tonight ! "  I  did  not  believe  we  would.  In  my  freshness 
I  did  not  believe  that  any  commander  of  troops  would  de 
liberately  break  up  a  ball,  and  humiliate  brave  soldiers.  I 
thought  my  explanation  to  the  commander  that  we  had  an 
engagement,  would  be  sufficient,  that  he  would  see  that  it 
was  impossible  to  hurry  matters.  We  had  been  to  a  good 
deal  of  expense,  and  it  was  our  duty,  after  accepting  the 
hospitalities  of  those  people,  to  pay  our  indebtedness  in  the 
only  way  we  knew  how,  and  so,  as  the  boys  had  gathered 
around  me  to  see  what  was  to  be  done,  I  said,  "  On  with 
the  dance.  Let  joy  be  unconfined." 

Our  guests  arrived  on  time,  and  shortly  after  it  became 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  295 

dark,  the  Dutch  band  we  had  hired  from  a  beer  hall  down 
town,  struck  up  some  sort  of  foreign  music,  and  "there 
was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night."  We  danced  half  & 
dozen  times,  smiled  sweetly  on  our  guests,  walked  around 
the  paths  of  the  old  garden,  flirted  a  little  perhaps,  and 
talked  big  with  the  male  guests,  and  convinced  them  anew 
that  we  were  regular  old  battle-scarred  vets,  on  detached 
duty  of  great  importance.  Near  midnight  we  all  sat  down 
to  lunch,  around  the  beer  tables,  and  everything  was  going 
along  smooth.  The  old  gentleman  who  had  been  first  i>  > 
make  our  acquaintance,  and  who  had  been  the  means  oc 
getting  us  into  society,  proposed  as  a  toast,  "  Our  brav  i 
and  generous  hosts,"  and  the  boys  called  upon  me  to  n  • 
»pond.  I  got  up  on  a  bench  and  was  making  a  speec  i 
that,  if  I  had  been  allowed  to  continue,  would  have  bee  i 
handed  down  in  history  as  one  of  the  ablest  of  our  timt . 
It  was  conciliatory  in  tone,  calculated  to  cement  a  friend 
ship  between  the  army  and  the  citizens  of  the  south,  antf 
show  that  while  we  were  engaged  in  war,  there  was  noth 
ing  mean  about  us,  and  that  we  loved  our  neighbors  a* 
ourselves.  I  was  just  getting  warmed  up,  and  our  guests 
had  spatted  their  hands  at  some  of  my  remarks,  when  I 
heard  a  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  on  the  sidewalk  outside,  and 
before  I  could  breathe  a  squad  of  infantry  soldiers  had 
filed  into  the  garden,  surrounded  the  dance-house,  a  dozen 
had  formed  in  line  before  the  door,  and  a  sergeant  had 
walked  in  and  ordered  the  citizens  to  disperse,  and  said  the 
recruits  were  under  arrest.  Well,  I  have  been  in  some 
tight  places  in  my  life,  but  that  was  the  closest  place  I  ever 
struck.  The  old  gentleman,  the  leader  of  our  guests, 
turned  to  me  and  asked  wha»*i  this  all  meant,  and  I  told 


296  HOW    PRIVATE   GKEOBGE   W.  PECK 

him  to  be  calm,  and  I  would  fix  everything.  I  got  down 
off  the  bench  and  approached  the  sergeant,  to  argue  the 
thing.  I  found  that  he  was  a  colored  man,  and  that  his 
soldiers  were  also  colored  troops.  This  was  the  unkindest 
cut  of  all.  I  could  stand  it  to  be  arrested  by  white  sol 
diers,  but  the  sending  of  a  lot  of  "niggers'*  after  us  white 
fellows  was  more  than  human  nature  could  bear  We  had 
most  of  us  been  Democrats  before  enlisting,  and  had  never 
looked  upon  the  colored  man  with  that  respect  that  we 
learned  to  do,  later.  I  went  up  to  the  sergeant,  as  brave 
as  I  could,  and  said,  "  Look-a-here,  boss,  you  have  made  a 
dreadful  mistake.  We  are  gentlemen,  enjoying  ourselves, 
and  this  interruption  on  your  part  will  cost  you  dear. 
Now  go  away  with  your  men,  quietly,  and  I  promise  you, 
on  the  honor  of  a  gentleman,  that  I  will  not  report  you, 
and  have  you  punished,"  and  I  looked  at  him  in  a  tone  of 
voice  that  I  thought  would  convince  him  that  I  was  a 
friend  if  he  should  go  away,  but  if  he  remained  it  would 
be  at  his  peril. 

He  said  he  didn't  want  any  foolishness,  or  some  of  us 
would  get  hurt,  and  just  then  one  of  the  Irish  recruits, 
who  had  tried  to  skin  out  the  back  way,  got  jabbed  in  the 
pants  by  a  bayonet,  and  he  began  to  howl  and  cuss  the 
"niggers."  The  sergeant  called  up  half  a  dozen  of  his 
sable  guard,  and  they  surrounded  me  and  some  of  the  boys. 
Our  guests  were  becoming  frightened,  ladies  had  put  on 
their  wraps,  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  confusion,  when 
I  shouted,  "Boys,  are  we  going  to  submit  to  this  insult  on 
the  part  of  a  lot  of  nigger  field  hands?  Never!  To  the 
rescue!"  Well,  they  didn't  "to  the  rescue"  worth  a  cent. 
A  colored  man  with  a  bayonet  had  every  recruit's  breast  at 


PUT  DOWN  THE   KEBELLIOtf.  297 

the  point  of  his  weapon,  three  soldiers  surrounded  me,  and 
one  run  his  bayonet  through  the  breast  of  my  coat  and  out 
under  my  arm,  and  held  me  on  my  tip-toes,  and  I  was 
powerless,  except  with  my  mouth.  The  old  gentleman, 
our  most  distinguished  guest,  came  up  to  me,  and  I  said 
to  him,  in  confidence,  so  our  guests  could  hear,  however, 
with  a  smile,  "  This  may  seem  to  you  a  singular  proceed 
ing.  I  cannot  explain  it  to  you  now,  as  I  am  pledged  to 
secrecy  by  my  government,  but  I  will  say  that  the  duty  we 
are  on  here  is  part  of  a  well-laid  plan  of  our  commander, 
and  this  seeming  arrest  is  a  part  of  the  plan.  This  colored 
sergeant  is  innocent.  He  is  simply  obeying  orders,  and  is 
a  humble  instrument  in  carrying  out  our  plan.  I  expected 
to  be  ' arrested'  before  morning,  but  hoped  it  would  be 
after  our  party.  However,  we  soldiers  have  to  go  whero 
ordered.  We  shall  be  thrown  into  prison  for  a  time,  but 
when  this  detective  or  secret  service  work  on  which  we  an* 
engaged  is  done,  we  will  take  pleasure  in  calling  upon  you 
again,  wearing  such  laurels  as  we  may  win.  We  bid  you 
good-night,  and  wish  you  much  happiness."  They  all 
shook  hands  with  us,  evidently  believing  what  I  had  said, 
and  even  the  sergeant  seemed  to  take  it  in,  for,  after  the 
crowd  had  gone,  the  sergeant  said,  "  You  will  excuse  me, 
kernel,  for  what  I  have  done.  I  didn't  know  about  any 
'plan/  All  I  knew  was  dat  the  provost-marshal  told  me 
to  go  up  to  Carrollton  and  pull  dem  recruits  dat  was  camp 
ing  at  de  beer  garden,  and  fotch  'cm  to  de  guard-house." 
I  told  him  he  did  perfectly  right,  and  then  we  recruits 
packed  up  our  things  and  marched  with  the  colored  sol 
diers  to  New  Orleans,  about  six  miles,  and  we  slept  in  the 
guard-house.  The  next  morning  the  provost-marshal 


29S  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

called  upon  us,  damned  us  a  little  for  not  insisting  on 
being  sent  to  our  regiments,  found  out  that  my  regiment 
was  up  the  river  two  hundred  miles,  and  seemed  mad  be- 
cause  I  passed  it  when  I  came  from  St.  Louis.  I  told  him 
I  was  not  expected  to  go  hunting  around  for  my  regiment, 
like  a  lost  calf.  What  I  wanted  was  for  my  regiment  to 
hunt  me  up.  That  afternoon  he  put  me  on  an  up-river 
boat  with  a  tag  on  my  baggage  telling  where  I  belonged, 
and  I  bid  good-bye  to  the  recruits,  after  having  had  three 
months  of  fun  at  the  expense  of  Uncle  Sam. 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  299 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

I  STRIKE  ANOTHER  SOFT-SNAP,  WHICH  is  HARDER  THAN  ANY  SNAP 
HERETOFORE — I  BEGIN  TAKING  Music  LESSONS,  AND  FILL  UP  A 
CONFEDERATE  PRISONER  WITH  YANKEE  FOOD. 

The  last  two  chapters  of  this  stuff  has  related  to  early 
experiences,  but  now  that  it  is  probable  the  chaplain  has 
got  over  being  mad  at  my  trading  him  the  circus-horse,  I 
will  resume  the  march  with  the  regiment.  For  a  month  or 
more  I  had  been  waiting  for  my  commission  to  arrive,  so 
that  I  could  serve  as  an  officer,  but  it  did  not  arrive  while 
we  were  at  Montgomery,  and  we  started  away  from  that 
city  towards  Vicksburg,  Miss.,  with  a  fair  prospect  of  hav 
ing  hot  work  with  strolling  bands  of  the  enemy,  I  was 
much  depressed.  It  had  got  so  they  didn't  seem  to  want 
me  anywhere.  It  seemed  that  I  was  a  sort  of  a  Jonah,  and 
wherever  I  was,  something  went  wrong.  The  chaplain 
wouldn't  have  me,  because  he  had  a  suspicion  that  I  was 
giddy,,  and  full  of  the  devil,  and  I  have  thought  he  had  an 
idea  I  would  sacrifice  the  whole  army  to  perpetrate  a  prac 
tical  joke,  and  he  also  maintained  that  I  would  lie,  if  a  lie 
would  help  me  out  of  a  scrape.  I  never  knew  how  such 
an  impression  could  have  been  created.  The  colonel  said 
he  would  try  and  get  along  without  me,  the  adjutant  didn't 
want  any  more  of  my  mathematics  in  his  reports  and  the 
brigade  commander  said  he  would  carry  the  brigade  colors 
himself  rather  than  have  me  around,  as  I  would  bring  head 
quarters  into  disgrace  some  way.  So  I  had  to  serve  as  a 
Psrivate  in  my  own  company,  which  was  very  hard  on  a  man 


300  HOW    PRIVATE    ^EORGE    W.  PECK 

who  had  tasted  the  sweets  of  official  position.  0,  if  my 
commission  did  not  come  soon  I  was  lost.  After  we  had 
marched  a  couple  of  days  it  began  to  look  as  though  we 
were  liable  to  have  a  fight  on  our  hands.  Every  little  while 
there  would  be  firing  in  advance,  or  on  the  flanks,  and 
things  looked  blue  for  one  who  did  not  want  to  have 
any  trouble  with  anybody.  One  morning  when  we  were 
cooking  our  breakfast  beside  a  pitch  pine  log,  a  little  Irish 
man,  who  was  a  friend  of  mine,  as  I  always  lent  him  my 
tobacco,  said:  "There  will  be  a  fight  today,  and  some  wan 
of  the  byes  will  sleep  cold  tonight." 

A  cold  chill  came  over  me,  and  I  wondered  which  of 
of  the  "  byV  would  draw  the  ticket  of  death.  The  Irish 
man  noticed  that  I  was  not  feeling  perfectly  easy,  and  he 
said,  "  Sorrel  top,  wud  yez  take  a  bit  of  advice  from  the 
loikes  of  me?"  I  did  not  like  to  be  called  sorrel  top,  but 
if  there  was  any  danger  I  would  take  advice  from  anybody, 
so  I  told  him  to  fire  away.  He  told  me  that  when  we  fell 
in,  for  tlm  march  of  the  day,  to  arrange  to  be  No.  4,  as  in 
ease  we  were  dismounted,  to  fight  on  foot,  number  four 
would  remain  on  his  horse,  and  hold  three  other  horses, 
and  keep  in  the  rear,  behind  the  trees,  while  the  dis 
mounted  men  went  into  the  fight.  Great  heavens,  and 
that  had  never  occurred  to  me  before.  Of  course  number 
four  would  hold  the  horses,  in  case  of  a  dismounted  fight, 
and  I  had  never  thought  what  a  soft  thing  it  was.  It  can 
be  surmised  by  the  reader  of  profane  history,  that  when 
our  company  formed  that  morning  I  was  number  four. 
We  marched  along  for  a  couple  of  hours,  when  there  was 
some  firing  on  the  flanks,  and  a  couple  of  companies  were 
wheeled  into  line  and  marched  off  into  the  woods  for 


PUT  DOWN"  THE  REBELLION".  301 

a  mile,  and  the  order  was  given  to  "  prepare  to  fight  on 
foot."  It  was  a  momentous  occasion  for  me,  and  when  the 
three  men  of  our  four  dismounted  and  handed  the  bridle 
reins  to  me,  I  was  about  the  happiest  man  in  the  army.  I 
did  not  want  the  boys  to  think  I  was  anxious  to  keep  away 
from  the  front,  so  I  said,  "  Say,  cap,  don't  I  go  too?"  He 
said  I  could  if  I  wanted  to,  as  one  of  the  other  boys  woultf 
hold  the  horses  if  I  was  spoiling  to  be  a  corpse,  but  I  told 
him  I  guessed,  seeing  that  I  was  already  on  the  horse,  I 
would  stay,  and  the  boys  went  off  laughing,  leaving  about 
twenty-five  of  us  "  number  fours  "  holding  horses.  Now, 
you  may  talk  all  you  please  about  safe  places  in  a  fight, 
but  sitting  on  a  horse  in  plain  sight,  holding  three  other 
prancing,  kicking,  squalling  horses,  while  the  rest  of  the 
boys  are  behind  trees,  or  behind  logs,  popping  at  the 
enemy,  is  no  soft  thing.  The  bullets  seemed  to  pass  right 
over  our  fellows  on  foot,  and  came  right  among  the  horses, 
who  twisted  around  and  got  tangled  up,  and  made  things 
unpleasant.  I  was  trying  to  get  a  stallion  I  was  holding 
to  quit  biting  my  legs,  when  I  saw  my  little  Irishman,  who 
had  steered  me  on  to  the  soft  snap,  dodge  down  behind  his 
horse's  head,  to  escape  a  bullet  that  killed  one  of  the  horses 
he  was  holding,  and  I  said,  "  This  is  a  fine  arrangement 
you  have  got  me  into.  This  is  worse  than  being  in  front." 
He  said  he  believed  it  was,  as  he  backed  his  other  horses 
away  from  the  dying  horse,  but  he  said  as  long  as  they 
killed  horses  we  had  no  cause  to  complain.  There  was  a 
sergeant  in  charge  of  us  "number  fours,"  and  he  was  as 
cool  as  any  fellow  I  ever  saw.  The  sergeant  was  a 
nice  man,  but  he  was  no  musician.  He  was  an  Irishman, 
also,  and  when  any  bugle-call  sounded  he  had  to  ask 


802  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

some  one  what  it  was.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  uncer 
tainty  about  bugle-calls,  I  noticed,  among  officers  as  well 
as  men. 

Of  course  it  could  not  be  expected  that  every  man  in  a 
cavalry  regiment  would  be  a  music  teacher,  and  the  calls 
sounded  so  much  alike  to  the  uncultivated  ear,  that  it  was 
no  wonder  that  everybody  got  the  calls  mixed.  In  camp 
we  got  so  we  could  tell  "assembly,"  and  "surgeon's  call," 
and  "tattoo,"  and  quite  a  number  of  others,  but  the  calls 
of  battle  were  Greek  to  us.  The  bugle  sounded  down  in 
the  woods,  and  the  sergeant  turned  to  me  and  asked, 
"Fhat  the  divilis  that  I  dunno?"  I  was  satisfied  it  was 
"  To  horse,"  but  when  I  saw  our  fellows  come  rushing  back 
towards  the  horses  it  looked  as  though  the  order  was  to  fall 
back,  and  I  suggested  as  much  to  the  sergeant.  He  thought 
it  looked  reasonable,  too,  and  he  ordered  us  to  fall  back 
slowly  toward  the  regiment.  We  didn't  go  so  confounded 
slow,  and  of  course  I  was  ahead  with  my  three  horses. 
The  sergeant  heard  the  captain  yell  to  him  to  hold  on,  and 
he  got  the  most  of  the  "fours"  to  stop,  and  let  the  boys 
get  on,  but  the  little  Irishman  and  myself  couldn't  hold  our 
extra  horses,  and  they  dragged  us  along  over  logs  and 
through  brush,  the  regiment  drew  sabers  to  "shoo "the 
horses  back,  waived  their  hats,  my  horse  run  his  fore  feet 
into  a  hole,  fell  down,  and  let  me  off  over  his  head,  the 
other  horses  seemed  to  walk  on  me,  I  became  insensible,  and 
the  next  thing  I  knew  I  was  in  an  ambulance,  behind  the 
regiment,  which  was  on  the  march,  as  though  nothing  had 
happened.  I  felt  of  myself  to  see  if  anything  was  broke, 
and  finding  I  was  all  right  I  told  the  driver  of  the  ambu 
lance  I  guessed  I  would  get  out  and  mount  my  horse,  but 


PUT   DOWN  THE   REBELLION.  303 

he  said  he  guessed  I  wouldn't,  because  the  colonel  had  told 
him  if  I  died  to  bury  me  beside  the  road,  but  if  I  lived  to 
bring  me  to  headquarters  for  punishment.  The  driver 
said  the  boys  whose  horses  I  had  stampeded,  wanted  to  kill 
me,  but  the  colonel  had  said  death  was  too  good  for  me. 
Well,  nobody  was  hurt  in  the  skirmish,  and  about  noon  we 
arrived  at  a  camping  place  for  the  night,  and  the  ambu 
lance  drove  up,  and  I  was  placed  under  guard. 

It  seems  the  sergeant  had  laid  the  whole  thing  to  me. 
He  had  admitted  to  the  colonel  that  he  didn't  know  one 
bugle  call  from  another,  and  he  supposed  I  did,  and  when 
he  asked  me  what  it  was,  and  I  said  it  was  to  retreat,  he 
supposed  I  knew,  and  retreated.  The  colonel  asked  me 
vhat  I  had  to  say,  and  I  told  him  I  didn't  know  any  bugle 
3all  except  "get  your  quinine,  get  your  quinine."  That 
when  I  enlisted  there  was  nothing  said  about  my  ability  to 
read  notes  in  music,  and  I  had  never  learned,  and  couldn't 
learn,  as  I  had  no  more  ear  for  music  than  a  mule.  I  told 
him  if  he  would  furnish  a  music  teacher,  I  would  study 
hard  to  try  and  master  the  difference  between  "forward  " 
and  "  back,"  but  that  it  didn't  seem  to  me  as  though  1 
ought  to  be  held  responsible  for  an  expression  of  opinion, 
however  erroneous,  when  asked  for  it  by  a  superior  officer. 
I  told  him  that  when  the  bugle  sounded,  and  I  saw  the 
boys  coming  back  on  a  hop,  skip  and  jump,  it  seemed  to 
me  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  the  bugle  had 
sounded  a  "  retreat."  That  seemed  the  only  direction  we 
could  go,  and  as  my  natural  inclination  was  to  save  those 
horses  that  had  been  placed  in  my  charge,  of  course  I  in 
terpreted  the  bugle  call  to  mean  for  us  to  get  out  of  there 
honorably,  and  as  the  only  w/»y  to  get  out  honorably  was  to 


304  HOW  PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

get  out  quick,  we  got  up  and  dusted.  The  colonel  always 
gave  me  credit  for  being  a  good  debater,  and  he  smiled  and 
said  that  as  no  damage  had  been  done,  he  would  not  insist 
that  I  be  shot  on  the  spot,  but  he  felt  that  an  example 
should  be  made  of  me.  He  said  I  would  be  under  arrest 
until  bed  time,  down  under  a  tree,  half  a  mile  or  so  from 
headquarters,  in  plain  sight,  and  he  would  send  music 
teachers  there  to  teach  me  the  bugle  calls.  I  thanked  him, 
in  a  few  well  chosen  remarks,  and  the  guard  marched  me 
to  the  tree,  which  was  the  guard-house.  I  found  another 
soldier  there,  under  arrest,  who  had  rode  out  of  the  ranks 
to  water  his  horse,  while  on  the  march,  against  orders,  and 
a  Confederate  prisoner  that  had  been  captured  in  the  morn 
ing  skirmish,  a  captain  of  a  Virginia  regiment.  The  cap 
tain  seemed  real  hurt  at  having  been  captured,  and  was  in 
clined  to  be  uppish  and  distant.  I  tried  two  or  three  times 
to  get  him  into  conversation  on  some  subject  connected 
with  the  war,  but  he  wouldn't  have  it.  He  evidently 
looked  upon  me  as  a  horse-thief,  a  deserter,  and  a  bad  man, 
or  else  a  soldier  who  had  been  sent  to  pump  information 
out  of  him.  I  never  was  let  alone  quite  as  severely  as  I 
was  by  our  prisoner,  at  first.  But  I  went  to  work  and 
built  a  fire,  and  soon  had  some  coffee  boiling,  bacon  frying, 
and  sweet  potatoes  roasting,  and  when  I  spread  the  lay  out 
on  the  ground,  and  said,  "  Colonel,  this  is  on  me.  Won't 
you  join  me  ?  "  I  think  he  was  the  most  surprised  man  I 
ever  saw,  He  had  watched  every  move  I  made,  in  cooking, 
with  a  yearning  such  as  is  seldom  seen,  and  he  probablj  had 
no  more  idea  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  mouthful  of  TV, 
than  that  he  should  fly.  His  eyes  might  have  been  weak, 
but  if  he  had  been  a  man  I  knew  well,  I  should  have  said 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  30ff 

-here  were  a  couple  of  tears  gathering  in  his  eyes,  and  I  was 
quite  sure  of  it  when  the  flood  broke  over  the  eye-lid  dam, 
and  rolled  down  among  the  underbrush  whiskers.  He 
stopped  the  flood  at  once,  by  an  effort  of  will,  though  there 
seemed  a  something  in  his  throat  when  he  said,  ' f  You 
don't  mean  it,  do  you,  kernel  ?"  I  told  him  of  course  I 
meant  it,  and  to  slide  right  up  and  help  himself,  and  I 
speare"d  a  great  big  sweet  potato,  and  some  bacon,  and 
placed  them  on  a  big  leaf,  and  poured  coffee  out  in  the  only 
cup  I  had.  He  kicked  on  using  the  cup,  but  I  said  we 
would  both  drink  out  of  it.  He  said,  e<  you  are  very  kind, 
sir,"  and  that  was  all  he  said  during  the  meal.  But  how 
lie  did  eat.  He  tried  to  act  as  though  he  didn't  care  much 
for  dinner,  and  as  though  he  was  eating  out  of  courtesy  to 
me,  but  I  could  tell  by  the  way  the  sweet  potato  went 
down  in  the  depths  of  my  Confederate  friend,  and  by  the 
joyous  look  when  a  swallow  of  coffee  hit  the  right  place, 
that  he  was  having  a  picnic. 

When  we  were  through  with  dinner  and  the  guard  and 
the  other  prisoner  were  cooking  theirs,  he  said,  "  My  friend, 
I  do  not  mind  telling  you  now  that  I  was  much  in  need  of 
food.  I  had  not  eaten  since  yesterday  morning,  as  we  have 
been  riding  hard  to  intercept  you  gentlemen,  sir.  I  trust 
I  shall  live  long  enough  to  repay  you  sir."  I  told  him  not 
to  mention  it,  as  all  our  boys  made  it  a  point  to  divide 
when  we  captured  a  prisoner.  He  said  he  believed  his 
people  felt  the  same  way,  but  God  knew  they  had  little  to 
divide.  He  said  he  trembled  when  he  thought  that  some 
of  our  men  who  were  prisoners  in  the  south  were  faring 
very  poorly,  but  it  could  not  be  helped.  "  Suppose  I  had 
captured  you,"  he  said,  with  *  Nnile  that  was  forced,  "I 


806  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE  W.  PECK 

could  not  have  given  you  a  mouthful  of  bread,  until  we 
had  found  a  southern  family  that  'had  bread  to  spare/" 
I  told  him  it  was  pretty  tough,  but  it  would  all  be  over 
before  long,  and  then  we  would  all  have  plenty  to  eat.  I 
got  out  a  pack  of  cards,  and  the  confederate  captain  played 
seven-up  with  me,  while  we  smoked.  Presently  nine 
buglers  came  down  to  where  we  were,  formed  in  line,  and 
began  to  sound  cavalry  calls  in  concert.  I  knew  that  they 
were  the  music  teachers  the  colonel  had  sent  to  teach  me 
the  calls.  The  confederate  looked  on  in  astonishment, 
tynile  they  sounded  a  call,  and  when  it  was  done  I  asked 
che  chief  bugler  what  it  was,  and  he  told  me,  and  I  asked 
him  to  sound  something  else,  which  he  did.  My  idea  was 
to  convince  the  prisoner  that  this  was  a  part  of  daily  rou 
tine.  He  got  nervous  and  couldn't  remember  which  was 
trumps;  and  finally  said  we  might  talk  all  we  pleased  about 
the  horrors  of  Andersonville,  but  to  be  blowed  to  death 
with  cavalry  bugles  was  a  fate  that  only  the  most  hardened 
criminals  should  suffer.  The  confederate  evidently  had  no 
ear  for  music  more  than  I  had,  and  he  soon  got  enough. 
However  the  buglers  kept  up  their  noise  till  about  supper 
time,  when  they  were  called  off.  I  got  another  meal  for 
the  confederate,  and  he  seemed  to  be  actually  getting  fat. 
The  colonel  of  my  regiment  came  down  to  where  we  were, 
and  said,  "Yon  fellows  seem  to  be  doing  pretty  well," 
and  then  he  had  a  long  talk  with  the  rebel  prisoner,  invited 
him  up  to  his  tent  to  pass  the  night,  apologized  for  the 
concert  he  had  been  giving  us,  explained  what  it  was  for, 
told  me  I  could  go  to  my  company  if  I  thought  I  could 
remember  a  bugle  call  in  the  future;  the  captain  shook 
bands  with  me  and  thanked  me  cordially,  and  we  sepa- 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  307 

rated.  He  was  exchanged  the  next  day,  and  I  never  saw 
him  for  twenty-two  years,  when  I  found  him  at  the  head 
of  a  manufacturing  enterprise  in  his  loved  Virginia,  and 
he  furnished  me  a  more  expensive  meal  than  I  did  him 
years  before,  but  it  didn't  taste  half  as  good  as  the  bacon 
dinner  in  Alabama  under  the  guard-house  tree. 


£08  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  SHORT  STORY  ABOUT  A  PAIR  OF  BOOTS,  SHOWING  THE  MONU 
MENTAL  GALL  OP  THEIR  OWNER. 

When  I  enlisted  in  the  cavalry  I  bought  a  pair  of  top 
boots,  of  the  Wellington  pattern,  stitched  with  silk  up  and 
down  the  legs,  which  were  of  shiny  morocco.  They  came 
clear  above  my  knees,  and  from  the  pictures  I  had  seen  of 
cavalry  soldiers,  it  struck  me  those  boots  would  be  a  pass- 
port]to  any  society  in  the  army.  The  first  few  months  of  my 
service,  it  seemed  to  me,  the  boots  gave  me  more  tone  than 
any  one  thing.  I  learned  afterwards  that  all  new  recruits 
came  to  the  regiment  with  such  boots,  and  that  they  were 
the  laughing  stock  of  all  the  old  veterans.  I  did  not  know 
that  I  was  being  guyed  by  the  boys,  and  I  loved  those  boots 
above  all  things  I  had.  To  be  sure,  when  we  struck  an 
unusually  muddy  country,  some  idiot  of  an  officer  seemed 
to  be  inspired  to  order  us  to  dismount.  The  boys  who  had 
common  army  boots  would  dismount  anywhere,  in  mud  or 
water,  but  it  seemed  to  me  cruel  for  officers  to  order  a 
dismount,  when  they  knew  I  would  have  to  step  in  the 
mud  half  way  up  to  my  knees,  with  those  morocco  boots 
on.  Several  times  when  ordered  to  dismount  in  the  mud, 
I  have  ridden  out  of  the  read,  where  it  was  not  muddy,  to 
dismount,  but  the  boys  would  laugh  so  loud,  and  the  offi 
cers  would  swear  so  wickedly,  that  I  got  so  I  would  dis 
mount  wherever  they  told  me,  suppress  my  emotions,  as  I 
felt  my  beautiful,  shiny  boots  sink  into  the  red  clay,  and 
when  we  got  into  camp  I  would  spend  half  the  night  clean- 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  309 

ing  my  boots.  The  captain  said  if  I  would  spend  half  the 
time  cleaning  my  carbine  and  saber  that  I  did  cleaning  my 
boots,  I  would  have  been  a  model  soldier. 

I  think  that  for  the  first  year  of  my  service  I  had  as 
elegant  a  pair  of  boots  as  could  be  found  in  the  army. 
But  it  was  the  hardest  work  to  keep  track  ^f  them.  The 
first  three  months  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  the  chap 
lain  from  trading  me  a  pair  of  old  army  shoes  for  my 
boots.  The  arguments  he  used  to  convince  me  that  mo 
rocco  boots  were  far  above  my  station,  and  that  they  were 
intended  for  a  chaplain,  were  labored.  If  he  had  used  the 
same  number  of  words  in  the  right  direction,  he  could 
have  converted  the  whole  army.  I  had  to  sleep  with  my 
boots  under  my  head  every  night,  to  prevent  them  from 
being  stolen  and  twice  they  were  stolen  from  iny  tent,  but  in 
each  case  recovered  at  the  sutler's,  where  they  had  been 
pawned  for  a  bottle  of  brandy  peaches,  which  I  had  to  pay  for 
to  redeem  the  boots.  The  boots  had  become  almost  a  burden 
to  me,  in  keeping  them,  but  I  enjoyed  them  so  much  that 
money  could  not  have  bought  them.  When  we  were  in  a 
town  for  a  few  days,  and  I  rode  around,  it  did  not  make 
any  difference  whether  I  had  any  other  clothes  on,  of  any 
account,  the  morocco  boots  captured  the  town.  The  na 
tives  could  not  see  how  a  man  who  wore  such  boots  could 
be  anything  but  a  high-up  thoroughbred.  The  last  time  I 
lost  my  boots  will  always  be  remembered  by  those  who  were 
in  the  same  command.  We  were  on  the  march  with  a 
Michigan  and  a  New  Jersey  regiment,  through  the  dustiest 
country  that  ever  was.  The  dust  was  eight  inches  deep  in 
the  road,  and  just  like  fine  ashes.  Every  time  a  horse  put 
his  foot  down  the  dust  would  raise  above  the  trees,  and  as 


310  HOW   PRIVATE   GEORGE   W.  PECK 

there  were  two  thousand  horses,  with  four  feet  apiece,  and 
each  foot  in  constant  motion,  it  can  be  imagined  that  the 
troops  were  dusty.  And  it  was  so  hot  that  the  perspiration 
oozed  out  of  us,  but  the  dust  covered  it. 

The  three  regiments  took  turns  in  acting  as  rear  guard, 
to  pick  np  stragglers,  and  on  this  hot  and  dusty  day  the 
New  Jersey  regiment  was  in  the  rear.  It  was  composed  of 
Germans  entirely,  with  a  German  colonel,  a  man  who  had 
seen  service  in  Europe,  and  he  looked  upon  a  soldier  as  a 
machine,  with  no  soul,  fit  only  to  obey  orders.  That  was 
not  the  kind  of  a  soldier  I  was.  During  the  day's  march 
the  boys  stripped  off  everything  they  could.  I  know  all  I 
had  on  was  a  shirt  and  pants,  and  a  handkerchief  around 
my  head.  I  took  off  my  boots  and  coat  and  let  the  col 
ored  cook  of  the  company  strap  them  on  to  his  saddle  with 
the  camp  kettles.  He  usually  rode  right  behind  the  com 
pany,  and  I  thought  I  could  get  my  things  any  time  if  I 
wanted  to  dress  up.  It  was  the  hardest  day's  march  that 
I  ever  experienced,  lungs  full  of  dust,  and  every  man  so 
covered  with  dust  that  you  could  not  recognize  your  near 
est  neighbor.  Afternoon  the  command  halted  beside  a 
stream,  and  it  was  announced  that  we  would  go  into  camp 
for  the  night.  The  colored  cook  came  along  soon  after, 
and  he  was  perfectly  pale,  whether  from  dust  or  fright  I 
could  not  tell,  but  he  announced  to  me,  in  a  manner  that 
showed  that  he  appreciated  the  calamity  which  had  befallen 
the  command,  that  he  had  lost  my  boots.  I  was  going  to 
kill  him,  but  my  carbine  was  full  of  dust,  and  I  made  it  a 
point  never  to  kill  a  man  with  a  dirty  gun,  so  I  let  him 
ftxplain.  He  said: 

"I  fell  back  to  de  rear,  by  dat  plantation  where  de  oot- 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  811 

ton  gin  was  burning,  to  see  if  I  couldn't  get  a  canteen  of 
buttermilk  to  wash  de  dust  outen  my  froat,  when  dat 
Dutch  Noo  Jersey  gang  come  along,  and  de  boss  he  said, 
*  nicker,  you  got  back  ahead  fere  you  pelong,  or  I  gick 
you  in  de  pack  mit  a  saber,  aind't  it,'  and  when  I  get  on 
my  mule  to  come  along  he  grab  de  boots  and  he  say,  'nick 
er,  dot  boots  is  better  for  me/  and  when  I  was  going  to 
take  dem  away  from  him  he  stick  me  in  de  pants  wid  a 
saber.  Den  I  come  away. 

I  could  have  stood  up  under  having  an  arm  shot  off, 
but  to  lose  my  boots  was  more  than  I  could  bear.  It  never 
did  take  me  long  to  decide  on  any  important  matter,  and 
in  a  moment  I  decided  to  invade  the  camp  of  that  New 
Jersey  regiment,  recapture  my  boots  or  annihilate  every 
last  foreigner  on  our  soil,  so  I  started  off,  barefooted,  with 
out  a  coat,  and  covered  with  dust,  for  the  headquarters  of 
the  New  Jersey  fellows.  They  had  been  in  camp  but  ^ 
few  minutes,  but  every  last  one  of  them  had  taken  a  batt 
in  the  river,  brushed  the  dust  off  his  clothes,  and  looked 
ready  for  dress  parade.  That  was  one  fault  of  those  for 
eigners,  they  were  always  clean,  if  they  had  half  a  chance. 
I  went  right  to  the  colonel's  tent,  and  he  was  surrounded 
with  officers,  and  they  were  opening  bottles  of  beer,  and  how 
cool  it  looked.  There  was  something  peculiar  about  those 
foreigners,  no  matter  if  they  were  doing  duty  in  the  most 
inaccessible  place  in  the  south,  and  were  short  of  trans 
portation,  you  could  always  find  beer  at  their  headquarters, 
I  walked  right  in,  and  the  colonel  was  just  blowing  the 
foam  off  a  glass  of  beer.  He  looked  at  me  in  astonishment, 
pud  I  said  in  a  voice  husky  from  dust  down  my  neck: 

is  in  an  important  epoch  in  thf  history  of 


812  HOW  PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

our  beloved  country.  Events  have  transpired  within  thi 
past  hour,  which  leaves  it  an  open  question  whether,  as  a 
nation,  we  are  afoot  or  on  horseback." 

"Great  hefens,"  said  the  colonel,  stopping  with  his 
glass  of  beer  half  drank,  "you  vrighten  me.  Vot  has  hab- 
bened.  But  vait,  und  dake  a  glass  of  beer,  as  you  seem 
exhausted,  und  proke  up.  Captain  Ouskaspiel,  hand  the 
shendleman  some  peer.  Mine  Gott,  bud  you  look  hard, 
strancher." 

I  do  not  believe  that  I  ever  drank  anything  that  seemed 
to  go  right  to  the  spot,  the  way  that  beer  did.  It  seemed 
to  start  a  freshet  of  dust  down  my  neck,  clear  my  throat, 
and  brace  me  up.  While  I  was  drinking  it  I  noticed  that 
the  German  colonel  and  his  officers  eyed  me  closely,  my 
bare  feet,  my  flannel  shirt  full  of  dust,  and  my  hair  that 
looked  as  though  I  had  stood  on  my  head  in  the  road. 
They  waited  for  me  to  continue,  and  after  draining  the  last 
drop  in  the  glass,  I  said: 

"Colonel,  it  was  no  ordinary  circumstance  that  induced 
you  brave  foreigners,  holding  allegiance  to  European 
sovereigns,  to  fly  to  arms  to  defend  this  new  nation  from 
an  internecine  foe.  While  we  natives,  and  to  the  manor 
born,  left  our  plows  in  the  furrow,  to  spring  to  arms,  you 
left  your  shoemaker  shops,  the  spigots  of  your  beer  saloons, 
the  marts  of  commerce  in  which  you  were  engaged,  and 
stood  shoulder  to  shoulder.  Where  the  bullets  of  the 
enemy  whistled,  there  could  be  found  the  brave  Dutchmen 
of  New  Jersey.  It  brings  tears  to  eyes  unused  to  weeping, 
to  think  of  the  German  fathers  and  mothers  of  our  land, 
who  are  waiting  and  watching  for  the  return  of  sons  who 
will  never  come  back,  and  this  is,  indeed,  harder  for  them 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION1.  313 

to  bear,  when  we  reflect  that  these  boys  were  not  obliged 
to  fight  for  our  country,  holding  allegiance,  as  I  said  be 
fore,  to " 

"Waid  a  minute,  of  you  blease,"  said  the  colonel. 
"  Dake  von  more  drink,  and  dell  me,  of  you  please,  vot  de 
hell  you  vos  drying  to  get  at.  Capt.  Heinrech,  gif  der 
shendleman  a  glass  of  beer." 

A  second  glass  of  beer  was  given  me,  and  I  drank  it. 
There  was  evidently  a  suspicion  on  the  part  of  the  New 
Jersey  officers  that  the  importance  of  my  visit  had  been 
over-rated  by  them,  and  they  seemed  anxious  to  have  me 
come  to  the  point. 

"  On  the  march  today/'  said  I,  wiping  the  foam  off  my 
moustache  on  my  shirt-sleeve,  "  one  of  your  thieving  sol 
diers  stole  my  boots  from  our  nigger  cook,  who  was  con 
veying  them  for  me.  A  cavalry  soldier  without  boots,  is 
no  good.  I  came  after  my  boots,  and  I  will  have  them  or 
blood.  Keturn  my  boots,  or  by  the  eternal,  the  Wisconsin 
cavalry  regiment  will  come  over  here  and  everlastingly  gal 
lop  over  your  fellows.  The  constitution  of  the  United 
States  and  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  are  on  my 
side.  In  civil  life  a  man's  house  is  his  castle.  In  the 
army  a  man's  aoots  is  his  castle.  Give  me  my  boots, 
sir,  or  the  blood  of  the  slain  will  rest  on  your  heads. " 

The  colonel  was  half  mad  and  half  pleased.  He  tapped 
his  forehead  with  his  fore-finger,  and  looked  at  his  officers 
in  a  manner  that  showed  he  believed  my  head  was  wrong, 
but  he  said  kindly: 

"My  man,  you  go  oud  and  sit  under  a  tree,  in  the 
shade,  and  I  vill  hafe  your  poots  found  if  they  are  in  my 
rechiment/'  and  I  want  out.  I  heard  the  colonel  say  to 


314  HOW   PRIVATE  GEORGE  W.  PECK 

one  of  his  officers,  "It  vas  too  pad  dot  two  good  glasses  of 
beer  should  be  spoiled,  giving  them  to  dot  grazy  solcher 
Ve  must  be  more  careful  mit  de  beer." 

Pretty  soon  an  officer  came  out  and  asked  me  how  the 
boots  were  taken,  and  I  gave  him  all  the  information  I 
had,  and  he  sent  men  all  around  the  regiment,  and  in  an, 
hour  or  so  the  boots  were  brought  to  me,  the  man  whe 
stole  them  was  arrested,  the  officers  apologized  to  me,  and 
I  went  back  to  my  regiment  in  triumph,  with  my  boot* 
under  my  arms.  The  incident  got  noised  around  among 
the  other  regiments,  and  for  months  after  that,  when  the 
colonel  of  the  New  Jersey  cavalry  rode  by  another  regi 
ment,  the  boys  would  yell  out,  "Boots,  boots/'  or  when  a 
company  or  squad  of  the  New  Jersey  fellows  would  pass 
along,  it  was  "Look  out  for  your  boots!  The  shoemakers 
are  coming."  For  stealing  that  one  pair  of  boots,  by  one 
man,  a  whole  regiment  got  a  reputation  for  stealing  that 
hung  to  it  a  long  time.  Ten  years  afterward  I  was  con 
nected  with  a  New  York  daily  paper,  and  one  evening  I 
was  detailed  to  go  to  a  New  Jersey  city  to  report  the  com 
mencement  exercises  of  a  college.  In  the  programme  oi 
exercises  I  noticed  that  a  man  of  the  same  name  as  that  of 
the  New  Jersey  colonel,  was  one  of  the  college  professors, 
and  I  wondered  if  he  was  the  same  man.  During  th« 
evening  he  put  in  an  appearance  on  the  stage,  and  I  could 
see  that  he  was  the  colonel  who  had  given  me  the  beer,  and 
caused  my  boots  to  be  returned  to  me.  After  the  exercises 
of  the  evening,  the  New  York  newspaper  men  were  invited 
to  partake  of  a  collation  in  the  apartments  of  the  college 
officials,  and  the  professors  were  introduced  to  the 


PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION.  315 

paper  men.  When  my  turn  came  to  be  introduced,  and 
the  old  colonel  stood  before  me,  I  said: 

"General,  you  were  in  the  army,  were  you  not?* 

"  Yezzer!"  said  the  old  man.  "I  am  broud  to  say  dot 
I  fought  for  my  adopted  country.  But  vy  do  you  ask?" 

"  We  have  met  before.  I,  too,  was  a  soldier.  I  was  at 
your  headquarters  once,  on  a  very  important  mission.  I 
was  entertained,  sir,  in  your  tent,  permitted  to  partake  of 
the  good  things  you  had,  and  sent  away  happy." 

"Veil,  you  dond't  say  so,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he 
pressed  my  hand  warmly.  "  Vere  vas  dis  dat  you  were  my 
guest,  and  vot  vas  de  important  message?"  and  he  smiled 
all  over  his  face  at  the  prospect  of  hearing  something 
about  old  times. 

"It  was  in  Mississippi,  between  Montgomery,  Ala.,  and 
Vicksburg.  Do  you  remember  the  hottest  and  dustiest 
day  that  ever  was,  when  we  camped  on  a  little  stream?" 
said  I. 

"0,  yah!"  said  the  colonel;  "very  well.  It  vas  an 
awful  time/' 

"  I  went  to  your  headquarters  with  information  of  vital 
importance.  One  of  your  soldiers  had  stolen  my  boots." 

"Gott  in  himmel!"  said  the  old  colonel,  now  a  college 
professor,  as  he  looked  at  me  to  see  if  there  was  any  resem 
blance  between  the  New  York  reporter  and  the  dusty, 
bare-footed  soldier  of  ten  years  before.  "  Vill  I  never  hear 
de  last  of  dem  dam  boots?  And  you  are  de  same  veller, 
eh.  I  have  often  thought,  since  dat  day,  vot  an  awful 
gall  you  had.  But  it  is  all  ofer  now.  You  vatch  your 
poots  vile  you  are  in  New  Chersey,  for  plenty  of  dos©  cav 
alry  men  are  all  arouad  here,  But  do  me  a  favor  now4 


HOW  PECK   PUT  DOWN  THE  REBELLION. 

and  don't  ever  again  say  poots  to  me,  dot's  a  good  fellow," 
and  then  we  all  sat  down  to  lunch,  and  the  old  colonel 
told  the  newspaper  boys  from  New  York  ahout  how  I 
called  at  his  tent  on  the  march,  looking  for  a  pair  of 
boots  that  had  eloped  with  one  of  his  New  Chersey  dutch- 


PECK'S  BOSS   BOOK 


BY 

GEO.  W.  PECK 

Author  of  "Peck's  Bad  Boy  and  His  Pa."  "Peck's  Sunshine," 
"Peck's  Fun,"  Etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY H.  E.  PATTERSON 


CHICAGO 

THOMPSON  &  THOMAS 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1884,  BY 

GEO.  W.  PECK 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY 

W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK 


PREFACE. 


To  THE  PUBLIC  : 

Writing  books  is  a  good  deal  like  any  other  kind  of 
intoxication.  A  man  thinks,  the  first  forty  years  of  his 
life,  as  he  looks  upon  the  frightful  examples  around  him — 
of  men  who  have  written  books,  and  got  the  habit  firmly 
fixed  upon  them — that  he  will  never  indulge  in  the  terri 
ble  dissipation  of  writing  a  book;  but  in  an  unguarded 
moment  he  writes  his  first  book,  and  then  there  is  no  hope 
for  him.  He  becomes  intoxicated,  and  likes  it,  and  all 
that  friends  can  do  to  prevent  him  will  not  keep  him  from 
repeating  the  dose.  At  times  he  thinks  he  will  take  a 
manly  stand,  and  never  again  indulge  in  the  intoxicating 
book.  He  realizes  that  he  is  better  without  it,  and  that 
an  indulgence  in  writing  books  only  makes  him  feel  good 
for  a  time,  and  leaves  him  prostrated,  and  with  a  headache 
the  next  morning.  But  the  tempter  comes  to  him,  shows 
him  his  name  in  gilt  letters  on  a  Russia  leather  binding, 
and  he  falls,  and  writes  another  book.  Friends  forsake 
him  on  account  of  his  terrible  habit ;  but  he  has  no  shame, 
and  if  not  sent  to  a  reformatory  institution,  he  keeps  it 
up.  The  fate  of  the  author,  who  looks  upon  the  book 
when  it  is  read,  should  be  a  warning  to  all. 

This  book  is  intended  simply  to  lighten  up  the  gloom 
of  every-day  life,  and  cause  smiles  where  tears  are  often- 
found,  and,  may  be,  in  the  book  there  will  be  an  occasional 
sketch  that  will  cause  tears  where  smiles  are  very  often  seen. 
To  those  who  are  inclined  to  look  upon  the  bright  side  of 
life,  but  who  have  hearts  that  are  easily  touched  by  the  sor 
rows  of  those  to  whom  everything  looks  dark,  this  book  is 
most  respectfully  dedicated  by  THE  AUTHOB. 


PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 


ACTKESSES  PLAYING  LOYE. 

MADAME  MODJESKA,  who  is  no  slouch  of  an 
actress  herself  if  she  is  a  countess,  was  asked,  by 
a  reporter,  her  opinion  of  Mary  Anderson's  acting,  and 
if  she  did  not  think  Mary  was  cold  and  unimpassioned 
in  her  love  scenes.  Modjeska  replied :  "  There  is  no 
such  a  thing  as  a  cold  and  unimpassioned  girl.  Ander 
son  may  seem  so,  because  she  has  not  met  the  right 
person.  She  will  meet  him,  however,  and  that  will 
remedy  her  apparent  coldness.  An  actress  must  fall 
in  love  before  you  see  her  at  her  best.  There  is  no 
exception  to  the  rule." 

Modjeska  is  right,  and  her  idea  is  the  same  as  that 
frequently  expressed  by  "  The  Sun*"  in  regard  to  Mary 
Anderson.  She  plays  love  scenes  just  as  well  as  she 
can,  on  what  she  has  been  told  about  love  by  her 
parents,  who  probably  don't  know  anything  about  it. 
Mary  goes  through  a  love  scene  same  as  the  Greek  slave 
would  go  through  a  base  ball  match.  If  the  ball  should 
get  caught  between  the  arm  and  the  ribs  of  the  Greek 
slave,  the  slave  would  hold  it,  but  she  would  never 
reach  out  to  take  it  on  the  fly,  and  send  it  back  to  the 
pitcher  with  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump,  and  then  turn  a 
double  summersault.  You  could  not  expect  it  of  a 

9 


10 

marble  statue  of  the  Greek  slave.  Mary  Anderson  is 
just  that  way  playing  love.  She  says  the  words  the 
way  the  marble  statue  would  hold  the  ball,  and  unless 
some  short-stop  takes  the  ball  from  the  statue  and  sends 
it  to  the  home  plate,  every  person  on  the  bases  will  get 
a  tally.  Mary  is  liable  to  keep  on  playing  at  love, 
until  the  rest  of  the  actresses  will  make  a  home  run 
and  get  husbands,  and  she  will  be  left.  She  says, 
"  Darling,  I  love  you,"  just  as  though  she  was  throw 
ing  a  bucket  of  ice  water  on  the  lover.  She  never  can 
throw  any  soul  into  her  love  making  until  she  has  had  a 
dose  of  it  herself.  When  she  has  forgot  herself  long 
enough  to  be  in  love  with  a  man,  a  case  of  regular  old 
typhoid,  there  will  be  actors  that  will  want  to  play 
Romeo  to  her  Juliet  for  no  salary  and  pay  their  own 
board.  When  Mary  has  been  in  love,  and  knows  how 
it  is  herself,  Romeo  will  not  shiver  through  the  balcony 
scene,  and  then  go  behind  the  wings  and  drink  a  hot 
whisky  and  put  on  an  ulster  overcoat  as  he  does  now. 
He  will  go  off  the  stage  panting,  and  call  for  a  fan  and 
a  sherry  cobbler.  After  she  has  been  there  herself, 
and  knows  love  when  she  sees  it,  and  brings  a  little 
nature  into  her  acting,  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  the 
lover  in  the  play  to  wear  perforated  buckskin  under 
garments  to  keep  him  from  taking  cold  after  she  has 
fainted  away  in  his  arms.  Then  she  will  be  warmer  in 
a  dead  faint  than  she  is  now  with  all  her  faculties  about 
her.  All  Mary  lacks  to  make  her  a  paralyzer,  is  to  get 
in  love  once,  so  she  can  interpret  the  passion  without 
relying  on  what  some  one  has  told  her.  After  she  has 
been  in  love,  her  cold  hail  stone  eyes  will  look  through 
a  play  lover  and  clinch  on  the  other  side,  and  draw  him 


ACTBE88E8   PLAYING   LOVE.  11 

up  to  her  and  break  a  rib.  Her  smile  that  now  looks 
as  though  she  made  it  by  tickling  herself  in  the  neck 
with  a  feather,  and  which  is  made  like  a  sneer,  will 
warm  up  and  go  all  over  her  face,  even  to  the  roots  of 
her  hair,  and  it  will  so  photograph  itself  upon  the 
mind  of  the  lover  who  is  hired  for  the  occasion,  that 
he  will  dream  about  it  nights,  and  he  will  blush  and 
get  scared  for  fear  she  means  it  After  Mary  has  been 
vaccinated  with  love,  and  it  begins  to  work,  she  will 
go  on  the  stage  and  when  she  takes  hold  of  the  lover's 
hand  her  icicle  fingers  will  seem  to  melt  in  his  hand 
and  he  will  look  down  to  see  if  he  has  not  got  hold  of 
some  hot  fried  cakes  instead  of  fingers,  and  when  she 
lets  go  he  will  pull  his  fingers  apart  and  blow  on  them 
to  cool  them.  When  Mary  has  been  in  love  about  a 
week,  and  falls  into  a  lover's  arms  on  the  stage,  he  will 
not  wear  a  leather  chest  protector,  to  keep  him  from 
taking  cold  on  his  lungs,  and  he  will  cease  to  feel  that 
he  is  playing  Romeo  to  the  Juliet  of  a  zinc  lined  refrig 
erator,  that  holds  a  hundred  pounds  of  pounded  iae, 
and  he  will  have  to  look  at  his  burden  a  couple  of  times 
to  be  sure  that  he  has  not  had  a  coal  stove  fall  on  him. 
It  will  make  all  the  difference  in  the  world  about  Mary. 
Modjeska  has  been  in  love,  and  there  is  a  warmth 
about  her  acting  that  makes  the  stage  lover  wear  a 
linen  ulster  all  the  year  round.  Jeffreys  Lewis  has 
been  in  love  many  times,  and  the  lover  that  plays 
with  her  on  the  stage,  never  bundles  up.  An  armful 
of  an  actress  who  has  been  in  love,  will  save  six 
tons  of  coal  in  a  family,  during  a  winter,  while  the 
presence  of  an  actress  who  does  not  know  what  love 
is,  by  her  own  experience,  is  an  expense  to  every 


12  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

person  who  plays  in  the  company  for  woolen  gar 
ments,  and  pneumonia  is  liable  to  attack  anybody 
in  the  cast.  We  are  glad  that  so  great  an  actress 
as  Modjeska  is  with  us  in  this  opinion  of  actresses. 
Love  is  something  an  actress  can  never  learn  from 
books,  or  by  being  told  how  it  is.  Modjeska  says 
Mary  will  find  the  right  man  yet.  We  don't  know 
about  that.  She  seldom  plays  in  Milwaukee,  and  her 
step-father  watches  her  so  close  when  she  is  here 
that  it  is  as  much  as  the  right  man's  life  is  worth 
to  try  to  mash  her ;  and  then  she  is  always  chewing 
gum,  and  a  woman  has  got  to  swear  off  on  gum, 
and  eradicate  the  gum  chewing  habit  from  her  system 
entirely  before  she  can  ever  be  in  love. 


THE  POPULAEITY  OF  BOXING. 

THE  recent  prize  fight  at  Madison  Square  Garden, 
New  York,  between  Sullivan  and  Mitchell,  shows 
that  fighting  and  "  knocking  out "  is  the  most  popular 
amusement  of  the  day,  and  that  more  people  can 
be  induced  to  pay  a  dollar  or  two  for  a  seat  to 
witness  such  a  display  than  for  any  other  entertain 
ment.  The  idea  of  twenty  thousand  people  going 
to  see  the  boxing  seems  ridiculous  on  the  face  of  it, 
and  yet  half  of  the  best  men  in  any  community,  had 
they  been  in  New  York  at  the  time,  would  have  been 
found  at  the  boxing  match.  There  is  something 
about  boxing  that  interests,  even  if  the  man  inter 
ested  does  not  understand  the  science  himself,  A 


THE   POPULARITY    OF    BOXING.  13 

variety  theatre  that  has  boxing  for  one  of  its  attrac 
tions  will  always  be  full,  and  the  audience  will  be  as 
pleased  as  possible.  We  do  not  expect  to  live  to 
see  boxing  popular  with  the  better  classes,  that  is, 
to  such  an  extent  that  the  services  in  church  will 
open  with  a  set-to  with  soft  gloves  between  a  couple 
of  deacons,  but  the  time  is  coming  when  every  play 
that  is  given  on  the  stage  will  have  the  plot  center 
upon  a  boxing  match.  If  some  latter  day  Shakes 
peare  should  re-write  the  play  of  "Hamlet"  so  that 
swords  would  be  done  away  with,  and  the  fighting 
be  done  with  boxing  gloves,  the  interest  in  that  play, 
which  is  gradually  wearing  off,  would  be  intensified. 
The  spectacle  of  Mr.  Booth  coming  on  the  stage  with 
a  pair  of  boxing  gloves,  and  having  a  set-to  with  his 
step-father,  while  the  ghost  acted  as  referee,  would  be 
well  worth  the  price  of  admission,  and  if  he  should 
have  a  quarrel  with  the  grave  digger  and  put  on 
the  gloves  with  him  and  knock  him  into  the  grave, 
and  Laertes  should  throw  up  the  sponge,  it  would 
bring  the  house  down.  The  lines  could  be  changed 
so  Hamlet  would  pick  up  the  skull  of  Yorick  and 
say,  "Alas,  poor  Yorick !  I  knocked  him  out  in  three 
rounds.  There  is  where  I  fractured  his  skull  and 
knocked  him  silly."  In  the  play  of  "Richard  the 
Third"  a  few  sets  of  boxing  gloves  would  lighten 
up  the  gloom.  Richard  could  pretend  not  to  know 
anything  about  boxing,  and  put  on  the  gloves  reluc 
tantly,  and  go  out  on  Bosworth  field  apparently 
expecting  to  be  knocked  out,  and  the  audience  would 
express  pity  for  the  poor  cripple,  and  then  Richard 
could  turn  in  and  clean  out  the  whole  army,  one  at 


14 

/• 

a  time,  and  come  upon  the  stage  as  a  conquering 
hero,  out  of  breath,  and  be  covered  with  bouquets 
Even  the  society  of  plays  will  be  enlivened  by  set-toe 
between  the  dudes  and  the  girls  of  the  play.  Noth 
ing  would  bring  an  audience  to  its  feet,  and  cause 
it  to  cheer  itself  hoarse  so  well  as  to  see  the  frail 
girl,  whom  the  villain  is  pursuing,  and  who  seems 
to  be  dying  of  blood  poisoning  from  the  paint  on 
her  face,  put  on  a  pair  of  six-button  boxing  gloves, 
and  knock  the  dude  villain  through  a  window  where 
he  will  fall  through  a  skylight  down  four  stories,  and 
come  back  with  his  clothes  torn  and  his  eye  blacked, 
after  his  eye-glass.  The  heroes  and  heroines  of  the 
future  are  going  to  be  those  who  can  strike  out  from 
the  shoulder  and  land  a  mauler  on  the  opponent's 
nose.  In  order  that  all  may  be  proficient  in  the 
art  that  brings  a  forkine  to  sluggers  for  one  night's 
entertainment  a  professorship  of  boxing  should  be 
attached  to  the  public  schools,  and  boys  and  girl# 
should  be  taught  the  art  of  defense.  When  the  most 
popular  man  in  cultivated  Boston  is  her  ablest  prize 
fighter,  who  can  make  more  money  in  a  night  than 
the  literary  Emerson  made  in  a  lifetime,  it  is  time 
that  all  should  enjoy  the  advantage  of  a  pugilistic 
education.  The  cultivated  and  educated  lecturer  who 
lectures  to  empty  benches,  and  who  reads  of  a  twenty 
thousand  dollar  house  greeting  two  prize  fighters  in 
New  York  or  Boston,  will  be  apt  to  hunt  for  a 
teacher  of  boxing  instead  of  a  lecture  bureau.  Box- 
Ing  is  at  the  head  of  the  procession  now. 


TROUBLES   OF   A   BB1DAL   PAKTY.  15 

TKOUBLES  OF  A  BKIDAL  PARTY. 


SAY,  what  kind  of  a  hotel  do  you  keep?"  said  a 
green  looking  man,  as  he  stepped  up  to  the  counter 
and  registered  his  name,  and  added  "  and  wife "  after 
it.  "  Can  a  new  married  couple  settle  down  here  for 
two  or  three  days,  and  have  a  quiet  visit  with  each 
other,  and  not  be  scared  out  of  their  boots  ? " 

The  hotel  man  said  they  could  go  right  to  their 
room  and  stay  there  three  days  or  three  weeks,  and 
never  come  to  their  meals  if  they  didn't  want  any 
thing  to  eat.  "But  what  is  the  matter?  Have  you 
been  annoyed  ? "  asked  the  hotel  man. 

"Annoyed !  That  don't  express  it.  We  were  mar 
ried  day  before  yesterday,  at  St.  Paul,  and  went  to  a 
hotel.  I  live  about  sixty  miles  west  of  St.  Paul,  and 
the  traveling  men  put  up  a  job  to  make  me  tired. 
There  Avere  about  a  hundred  of  them  snowed  in  at  St. 
Paul,  and  I'll  be  darned  if  they  didn't  keep  us  awake 
all  night.  They  knew  we  were  a  bridal  couple,  and 
they  bribed  the  bell  boys  and  porters  to  let  them  act 
lor  them,  and  when  we  rung  the  bell  for  the  bell  boy, 
a  drummer  for  a  Chicago  cigar  factory  came  in  and 
wanted  to  know  what  was  wanted.  I  ordered  a 
pitcher  of  ice  water,  and  a  Milwaukee  drummer  for 
a  grocery  house  brought  it  in,  and  he  looked  at  my 
wife,  who  was  bashful  and  made  her  feel  real  bad.  I 
didn't  know  they  were  drummers  until  the  next  day, 
or  I  should  have  killed  some  of  them.  I  rung  the  bell 
for  coal,  and  a  traveling  man  who  posts  railroad  cards 
around,  and  works  up  excursions,  he  came  in  and  fixed 


16  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

the  fire,  and  he  stayed  and  poked  it  for  half  an  hour, 
and  he  had  more  gall  than  I  ever  see.  He  asked  so 
many  questions  about  how  long  we  had  been  married, 
that  I  wanted  to  thump  him,  but  my  wife  said  we 
didn't  want  to  have  no  row  the  first  day  we  were 
married.  I  rung  for  a  chamber-maid  to  clean  up  the 
room  and  bring  some  towels,  and  it  was  about  half  an 
hour  before  she  came,  and  I  went  down  to  the  office 
to  see  about  my  trunk,  and  the  chamber-maid  stayed 
about  half  an  hour,  and  was  very  interesting  and  my 
wife  said  she  was  a  real  pleasant,  affectionate  sort  of 
a  creature,  far  above  her  station,  and  I  tell  you  I  was 
mad  when  I  found  out  that  it  was  a  smooth  faced, 
handsome  young  Jewish  drummer  for  a  Milwaukee 
clothing  house,  who  was  in  with  the  gang,  and  he 
gave  the  chamber-maid  three  dollars  to  loan  him  an 
old  dress  so  he  could  play  chamber-maid.  When  my 
wife  told  me  that  the  he-chamber-maid  patted  her  on 
the  cheek,  and  said  she  was  the  sweetest  bride  that  was 
ever  in  the  hotel,  and  asked  for  a  kiss,  and  my  wife 
said  she  thought  it  would  be  no  harm  to  kiss  a  poor 
chamber-maid,  and  encourage  her,  I  wanted  to  kill 
him,  and  I  went  down  to  the  office  the  next  morning, 
but  the  smooth  faced  cuss  had  gone  to  Fargo.  It  was 
all  the  landlord  could  do  to  hold  me.  Well,  while  we 
were  at  supper  somebody  got  into  the  room  and  put 
cracker  crumbs  in  our  bed,  and  we  found  a  cold  oil 
cloth  floor  mat  over  the  top  sheet,  enough  to  freeze 
anybody.  But  the  worst  was  at  night.  We  had  just 
got  comfortably  in  bed  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the 
door,  and  I  got  up,  and  the  watchman  was  there,  and 
he  said  he  wanted  to  point  out  to  me  the  fire  escape, 


TBOTJBLES  OF  A  BKIDAL  PARTY;  17 

so  I  could  get  out  in  case  of  fire,  and  I  went  out  into 
the  hall  and  he  took  me  way  out  to  the  end  of  the 
building  to  show  it  to  me,  and  while  I  was  looking  out 
of  the  window  my  wife  came  running  down  the  hall 
and  begging  me  to  save  her.  I  asked  her  what  was 
the  matter  and  she  said  as  soon  as  I  went  out  a  man 
that  looked  like  a  porter,  came  in  the  room  and  told 
her  to  fly,  and  save  herself,  and  to  follow  her  husband. 
She  felt  awful  when  she  found  there  was  no  trouble, 
and  we  got  back  into  our  room  half  froze.  I  have  got 
them  fellows  down  fine. 

The  fellow  who  called  me  out  to  look  at  the  fire 
escape,  is  a  drummer  for  a  Philadelphia  millinery 
house,  and  the  one  that  scared  my  wife  out  of  her  wits 
travels  for  a  hearse  factory  at  Bochester,  1ST.  Y.  My 
wife  says  she  would  know  him,  because  he  has  a  big 
gray  moustache,  and  wears  a  diamond  collar  button  in 
his  shirt.  She  said  she  thought  he  was  pretty  stylish 
for  a  porter,  at  the  time.  They  woke  us  up  several 
times  in  the  night,  to  tell  us  what  to  do  in  case  we  were 
sick,  and  in  the  morning,  before  we  were  up,  a  waiter 
brought  up  our  breakfast.  He  said  the  landlord  sent 
it  up,  and  he  just  stood  around  until  we  had  to  sit  up 
ap  in  bed  and  eat  breakfast.  I  thought  at  the  time 
that  it  was  kind  in  the  landlord  to  send  up  our  break 
fast,  but  when  I  found  that  the  waiter  who  brought  it 
up  was  a  traveling  man  for  a  reaper  factory  at  Kftck- 
ford,  and  remembered  how  darned  impudent  he  looked 
at  my  wife,  I  could  have  murdered  him,  but  the  clerk 
said  he  had  gone  to  Winnipeg.  It  was  just  about  as 
bad  coming  down  here  on  the  sleeping  car,  and  I  think 
half  the  passengers  on  the  car  were  those  same  drum- 
2 


18  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

mers  that  were  snowed  in.  It  was  colder  than  Alaska, 
and  I  would  order  extra  blankets,  and  they  would  steal 
them.  I  had  more  than  twenty  blankets  put  on  the 
bed,  and  in  the  morning  there  was  nothing  but  a  sheet 
over  us.  And  every  time  there  was  a  blanket  spread 
over  us  there  was  a  different  porter  put  it  on,  and  J 
think  they  were  all  traveling  men.  Every  little  while 
somebody  would  pull  open  the  curtains  and  sit  down 
on  my  berth  and  begin  to  pull  off  his  boots,  and  I 
would  tell  him  the  berth  was  occupied,  and  that  he 
must  have  made  a  mistake,  and  he  would  look  round 
at  us  as  innocent  as  could  be,  and  ask  our  pardon  and 
then  go  out  and  damn  the  porter.  Once  I  felt  some 
body  feeling  about  my  berth  and  I  asked  what  was  the 
matter,  and  the  fellow  said  he  was  looking  for  my 
wife's  shoes  to  black.  Then  about  every  fifteen 
minutes  the  conductor  would  open  the  curtains  and 
hold  a  red  lantern  in  and  ask  for  our  tickets.  I  think 
they  punched  my  ticket  sixty-five  times.  Any  way 
it  looked  like  a  porous  plaster  when  I  got  up  in  the 
morning.  I  think  it  was  the  traveling  men  who  were 
playing  conductor,  but  I  was  sleepy,  and  I  thought  the 
best  way  was  to  let  them  punch  it.  Well,  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning  somebody  punched  us  and  said 
it  was  time  to  get  up,  as  all  the  passengers  were  up, 
and  we  would  have  breakfast  in  fifteen  minutes.  And 
'hen  we  hustled  around  and  got  dressed  the  best  we 
could,  laying  on  our  backs,  and  kicking  our  clothes  up 
m  the  air  and  catching  them  on  ourselves  when  they 
came  down.  I  got  my  pants  on  wrong  side  before, 
and  lost  everything  out  of  my  pockets,  and  my  wife 
lost  her  hair,  and  had  to  tie  a  handkerchief  around  her 


BREAKING   UP  A   SCHOOL.  19 

head,  and  then  we  had  our  berths  made  up  and  sat  up 
till  daylight,  and  the  porter  found  my  wife's  hair  and 
pinned  it  to  the  curtains  of  a  berth  occupied  by  a 
preacher  from  Oshkosh,  and  he  kicked,  and  got  mad, 
and  talked  about  it,  and  wondered  how  it  came  there, 
and  he  swore  about  it,  and  I  think  he  travels  for  an 
Oshkosh  carriage  factory.  O,  I  never  had  such  a 
night,  or  two  such  nights,  in  all  my  life,  and  what  I 
want  to  know  is,  if  I  can  be  quiet  here,  and  get  a  little 
sleep,  and  not  be  annoyed."  The  hotel  man  told  him 
if  anybody  came  around  to  bother  him,  to  knock  them 
clear  down  stairs,  and  he  would  be  responsible,  and 
the  bridegroom  took  his  satchel  and  his  wife,  and  the 
colored  man  showed  them  a  room,  and  they  have  not 
showed  up  since.  It  is  confounded  mean  in  traveling 
men  to  get  snowed  in  and  form  a  syndicate  to  have 
fun.  They  will  cause  themselves  to  be  disliked  if  they 
keep  on. 


BREAKING  UP  A  SCHOOL. 


WE  see  by  the  dispatches  that  two  boys  at  Cum 
berland,  Ohio,  attempted  to  whip  a  school 
teacher,  and  the  teacher  stabbed  both  the  boys,  kill 
ing  one  instantly  and  fatally  wounding  the  other. 
There  is  probably  no  position  that  has  more  annoy 
ances  than  teaching  a  country  school,  where  there 
is  a  lot  of  big  boys  who  seem  bent  on  mischief, 
and  whose  highest  ambition  is  to  whip  the  teacher, 
and  turn  him  out  doors.  Occasionally  there  is  a  school 
that  becomes  so  hard  that  no  man  will  attempt  to 


20 

teach  it,  unless  he  is  a  prize  fighter,  and  then  he 
does  not  know  anything  but  to  fight.  Sometimes 
the  appointment  of  a  beautiful  and  accomplished 
young  lady  as  teacher  of  a  hard  school  will  have 
a  good  effect,  as  she  may  be  able  to  win  the  Dig 
boys  by  kindness.  We  were  won  that  way  once,  and 
it  would  have  been  all  right,  only  another  big  boy, 
who  wanted  to  be  won  also,  got  jealous  and  hit  us 
in  the  ear  with  a  pair  of  skates.  We  remember  of 
attending  one  school  that  was  about  as  hard  as  could 
be.  There  were  five  or  six  boys  that  made  it  a  point 
to  see  that  no  teacher  remained  in  the  school  a  full 
term.  They  would  do  something  mean  and  get  him 
to  whip  them,  and  then  they  would  all  jump  on  him, 
and  throw  him  outdoors,  and  he  would  leave.  Most 
people  look  on  such  boys  as  pretty  hard  characters, 
but  the  rest  of  us,  who  wanted  school  to  be  closed 
when  skating  was  good,  looked  upon  them  as  heroes, 
and  we  all  wanted  to  join  the  gang.  One  winter  the 
teacher  was  locked  out  doors  and  hit  with  a  frozen 
snow  ball,  and  stood  on  his  head  and  had  water  poured 
down  his  trousers,  and  he  resigned  and  went  to  driv 
ing  team  at  a  sawmill.  He  said  he  had  got  all  the 
teaching  school  he  wanted,  anyway.  It  was  early 
in  the  winter  term,  and  the  trustees  flew  around  for 
two  weeks  before  they  found  a  man  to  take  the  job. 
It  was  splendid  skating,  and  all  the  scholars  had  a 
good  time,  and  there  was  great  regret  expressed,  as 
we  remember  it,  when  it  was  given  out  in  church 
Sunday  that  school  would  open  on  Monday  morning. 
After  the  evening  services  the  boys  got  together  and 
talked  it  over,  and  decided  to  give  the  new  teacher 


BREAKING  UP   A   SCHOOL.  21 

a  week.  It  had  been  thawing  for  a  day  or  two,  and 
the  boys  were  tired  of  skating,  so  they  thought  they 
could  afford  to  spend  a  week  educating  themselves, 
and  so  they  gave  him  a  week.  On  that  evening  we 
were  duly  elected  a  member  of  the  class  of  hard 
citizens,  and  we  were  to  open  the  ball,  and  do  some 
thing  bad,  get  him  to  lick  us,  and  then  the  boys  were 
to  jump  in  and  help. 

Monday  morning  the  school  commenced,  and  the 
teacher  proved  to  be  a  sickly  looking,  slim  sort  of  a 
fellow,  a  timid,  nervous  man,  with  a  hand  and  face 
like  a  girl.  Every  time  he  looked  at  one  of  the  boys 
there  seemed  to  be  an  expression  on  his  face  as  though 
he  would  say,  "  I  hope  you  will  be  good."  When  he 
had  anything  to  say  to  the  scholars  he  said  "  please," 
and  gave  other  evidences  of  being  pretty  soft,  we  all 
thought.  That  morning  the  weather  changed  and  it 
froze  hard,  and  at  recess  the  boys  got  together  and  said 
we  would  wind  up  the  school  before  noon,  and  go  out 
on  the  ice.  It  was  our  turn  to  be  bad,  and  it  com 
menced  right  off.  The  big  boys  had  to  carry  in  the 
wood,  and  lay  it  down  quietly  by  the  stove.  We  took 
in  an  armful  and  dropped  it  on  the  floor  so  that  it 
shook  the  building,  and  loosened  the  stove-pipe.  The 
pipe  came  out  of  the  chimney,  and  filled  the  room  with 
smoke,  but  it  was  put  back,  and  the  slim,  sickly  teacher 
only  reprimanded  us,  and  said  that  it  must  not  occur 
again.  We  just  ached  to  go  after  some  more  wood, 
but  there  was  no  opportunity.  Pretty  soon  the  teacher 
said  we  might  go  and  get  a  pail  of  water,  and  while  at 
the  well  we  decided  to  stumble  on  entering  the  school 
room,  and  spill  the  water  all  over  the  floor,  and  thus 


PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 


give  the  sickly  looking  teacher  a  chance  to  show  what 
he  was  made  of.  The  teacher  was  near  the  stove,  and 
we  stumbled,  the  water  went  all  over  everything,  wet 
ting  his  boots,  making  him  pretty  mad.  In  sizing  him 
up  we  had  not  noticed  before  that  his  eyes  were  black 
as  coals,  and  that  he  seemed  to  be  about  eight  feet 
high,  but  as  he  looked  at  us  we  could  see  it  plainly. 
He  seemed  to  read  our  thoughts,  and  knew  it  was  done 
on  purpose,  and  we  have  always  thought  he  heard  the 
boys  talking  it  over  at  recess.  Anyway,  he  jumped 
clear  across  the  room,  grabbed  us  by  the  neck  and  sat 
us  down  in  the  water,  then  he  lifted  us  up  and  shook  us 
so  the  teeth  rattled,  then  he  seemed  to  grab  us  all  over 
and  just  maul  us.  We  got  a  chance,  once  or  twice,  to 
look  around  to  the  back  seats,  as  he  was  revolving  us 
around  on  our  own  axis,  to  see  if  the  other  boys  were 
coming  to  help  us  put  him  out  doors,  but  they  were 
the  most  studious  lot  of  big  boys  we  ever  saw.  They 
had  their  heads  down  in  their  books,  and  their  lips 
were  moving  in  silent  prayer.  After  the  teacher  had 
mopped  the  floor  with  us,  he  took  us  by  the  slack  of  the 
pants,  just  as  a  dog  would  carry  a  duck,  and  went  to 
his  desk  and  got  a  big  hickory  ruler,  and  proceeded  to 
dry  our  pants.  Well,  it  was  the  meanest  way  ,o  dry 
pants  that  ever  was,  and  while  it  dried  them  well 
enough,  it  left  great  ridges  inside  of  them,  that  made 
a  corrugated  chair  almost  a  necessity.  The  boys  did 
not  fulfill  their  part  of  the  programme,  and  when  the 
teacher  got  through  drying  our  pants  and  said,  "  Please 
return  to  your  seat,"  we  felt  as  though  his  politeness 
was  a  perfect  sham.  We  looked  at  the  boys  as  we 
went  to  our  seat,  but  they  never  looked  up.  We  have 


"HE  TOOK  lift  BY  THK  SLACK  OF  THE  PANTS,    JUST  AS  A  DO0 
WOULD  CARtY  A  DUCK." 


BREAKING  UP  A  SCHOOL.  25 

witnessed  contested  seats  in  the  legislature,  since,  but 
never  saw  one  that  was  so  exciting  as  that  one  in  the 
old  white  school  house  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The 
teacher  never  spoke  during  the  proceedings,  and  when 
it  was  over,  he  looked  even  paler  and  more  sickly  than 
when  he  had  one  hand  in  the  hair  that  once  grew  where 
we  are  now  bald,  while  the  other  was  at  work  in  the 
vineyard,  But  none  of  the  boys  seemed  to  care  to 
pitch  on  to  a  sick  man,  and  he  taught  that  school  two 
terms,  and  never  had  to  whip  another  boy.  There  was 
something  so  impressive  about  every  movement  of  the 
delicate  looking  teacher,  that  the  boys  got  to  feeling 
sorry  for  him,  and  they  treated  him  real  well.  If  they 
didn't,  he  would  have  everlastingly  paralyzed  the  whole 
gang  all  at  once.  After  that,  one  day,  the  big  black 
smith  of  the  town  was  on  a  drunk,  and  everybody  was 
afraid  of  him,  but  when  the  blacksmith  insulted  the 
teacher,  in  front  of  a  store,  and  the  teacher  reached 
out  one  of  those  small  hands  and  knocked  the  black 
smith  down,  and  thea  held  him  up  and  knocked  him 
down  again,  and  told  the  blacksmith,  who  was  in  a 
habit  of  whipping  his  wife  when  drunk,  that  if  he  ever 
did  it  again  he  would  come  to  his  house  and  thresh 
him  within  an  inch  of  his  life,  everybody  swore  by  the 
teacher,  and  he  never  had  any  trouble  again.  That 
was  the  last  school  we  ever  broke  up.  The  slim,  sickly 
teacher  is  an  old  man  now,  living  quietly  in  this  state, 
with  children  as  old  as  we  are,  and  we  occasionally  see 
him,  and  ask  him  if  he  remembers  how  we  broke  up 
the  school.  He  is  feeble  now,  and  walks  with  a  cane, 
but  if  we  had  to  have  a  fight  with  him,  even  now,  we 
Vould  hire  a  man  to  do  it. 


26  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOS* 


JOUSTING  A  BAOT). 


A  MAOTJFACTOKY  of  brass  band  instruments 
-£JL  Was  burned  a  few  days  ago  at  Elkhart,  Ind. 
Whether  this  is  a  dispensation  of  divine  providence,  or 
only  an  act  of  the  populace  is  not  known.  If  one 
could  figure  up  the  annoyance  caused  to  innocent  peo 
ple  by  every  brass  horn  manufactured,  while  the  opera 
tor  of  the  horn  is  learning  to  play,  there  would  be  no 
wonder  that  the  factory  burned.  A  brass  band,  com 
posed  of  good  players  is  a  thing  all  enjoy,  but  the 
playing  of  a  single  horn,  by  a  new  beginner,  is  about 
the  most  mournful  and  nerve-shattering  experience 
that  the  world  can  produce,  if  we  except  a  base  ball 
nine  composed  of  cats,  practicing  in  the  night.  It 
beats  all  how  few  persons  who  begin  to  play  a  horn, 
hold  out  faithful  to  the  end,  and  eventually  become 
members  of  a  band.  There  is  a  time  in  the  life  of 
every  young  man  when  he  has  an  ambition  to  belong 
to  a  brass  band,  and  he  never  rests  contented  until  he 
has  borrowed,  or  owns,  a  brass  horn.  A  boy  goes  to 
a  county  fair  and  sees  a  band,  hired  from  a  neighbor 
ing  town,  and  each  member  of  the  band  is  a  hero  in 
the  eyes  of  the  boy.  He  sees  the  blue  coats,  with  gold 
lace,  the  epaulets,  the  cap  with  its  musical  front  piece, 
and  the  yellow  stripe  down  the  trousers,  and  he  is 
mashed  on  the  band,  and  he  resolves  to  learn  to  play  a 
horn.  He  sees  the  fellow  that  blows  the  trombone, 
flirting  with  the  girl  he  took  to  the  fair,  and  she  seem? 
to  enjoy  the  distinction,  the  iron  enters  his  soul,  and 


JOINING  A  BAND.  27 

*ie  resolves  to  become  a  blower  too,  and  take  revenge 
on  his  girl  by  mashing  other  girls.  He  sees  the  crowd 
collect  around  the  band  stand  as  the  band  plays  a  tune, 
and  notices  the  snare  drummer  cock  his  hat  over  on 
one  side  of  his  head,  and  look  at  all  the  girls,  and  the 
young  man  is  almost  inclined  to  learn  to  play  the  drum 
instead  of  the  horn,  as  he  argues  that  playing  the  drum 
gives  one  a  better  opportunity  to  look  around,  but 
when  he  reflects  that  it  only  takes  muscle  to  play  the 
drum,  and  that  it  requires  brain,  and  wind,  to  play  a 
horn,  he  decides  on  a  horn.  And  when  the  band  is 
marched  off  to  the  dining  hall,  at  the  fair,  and  given  a 
place  at  the  head  of  the  table,  near  the  orator  of  the 
day,  who  has  his  oration  in  his  pocket,  and  is  afraid  he 
will  lose  it,  and  sees  the  crowd  collect  around  the 
band,  his  mind  is  made  up  more  firmly  than  ever  to 
learn  to  play  a  horn.  He  goes  home  and  dreams  of 
the  band,  and  the  next  day  he  goes  to  work  and  sells 
a  calf,  or  takes  some  of  the  money  he  earned  harvest 
ing,  and  buys  a  brass  horn  and  a  book  of  notes  that  he 
does  not  know  the  name  of.  He  has  been  to  singing 
school,  and  can  read  singing  notes,  but  horn  notes  are 
too  rich  for  his  blood. 

He  does  not  tell  his  family  what  he  has  done,  but 
smuggles  his  horn  into  the  barn,  and  when  he  has  got 
the  milking  done,  and  fed  the  stock,  he  goes  out  to  the 
barn  and  gets  into  the  hay  mow,  and  feels  of  the  keys. 
He  finally  musters  up  courage  to  blow  gently  into  the 
horn,  and  he  hears  a  noise  that  is  a  cross  between  the 
squeal  of  a  pig  caught  under  a  gate,  and  the  bellow  of 
a  cow  that  smells  blood  and  paws  the  turf,  and  looks 
sassy  in  the  pasture.  He  blows  gently  until  he  has  got 


28  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

so  he  can  make  a  straight  noise  that  does  not  split  up 
the  back  and  go  out  of  the  instrument  both  ways,  and 
the  folks  in  the  house  begin  to  hear  it.  Then  he  con 
cludes  that  he  will  see  how  much  the  ii  strument  will 
stand,  and  he  draws  in  his  breath  and  blows  for  all 
that  is  out,  and  as  the  discordant  "bla-a-t"  goes  out 
upon  the  stilling  air  of  the  hay  mow,  and  he  feels  a 
sensation  at  the  butt  of  the  ears  that  makes  him  think 
a  mule  has  kicked  him,  he  hears  the  horses  down  stairs 
kicking  in  the  stalls,  and  the  cows  are  lowing  as 
though  they  had  heard  bad  news,  and  the  faithful 
dog  that  he  left  out  doors  begins  to  howl  as  though 
there  was  going  to  be  a  death  in  the  family.  Then 
the  beginner  begins  to  realize  that  he  is  making  a  sen 
sation,  and  he  looks  out  of  a  crack  in  the  barn  toward 
the  house,  and  he  sees  his  mother  standing  on  the 
porch  with  her  apron  over  her  head  looking  at  the 
barn  as  though  it  was  on  fire ;  the  hired  man,  who  is 
pumping  water,  stops  with  the  pump  handle  in  the  air ; 
and  he  sees  his  father,  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  pick  up  ai) 
ax  handle  and  start  for  the  barn,  spitting  on  his  hands, 
and  looking  savage.  He  sees  a  neighbor,  who  was 
driving  by,  stop  his  team  in  front  of  the  house  and  ask 
if  there  is  anybody  sick,  and  he  realizes  that  it  is 
impossible  to  keep  his  secret  longer,  and  he  comes 
down  out  of  the  hay  now,  with  his  brass  horn  under 
his  arm,  as  sheepish  as  though  he  had  been  caught 
kissing  the  hired  girl,  and  confesses  to  his  outraged 
family  that  he  is  learning  to  play  a  horn  so  he  can 
join  the  band.  His  father  tells  him  that  he  is  a  blasted 
fool,  but  his  mother  and  sister  take  his  part,  and  argue 
that  it  will  be  a  great  honor  to  have  him  wear  briga- 


THE   GUITAR  PERIOD.  29 

dier-general  clothes  in  the  band,  and  the  matter  is 
compromised  by  allowing  him  to  practice  on  his  horn 
out  in  the  south  lot ;  and  for  a  week  or  two,  at  inter 
vals,  mournful  sounds  are  heard  from  that  direction, 
and  then  they  suddenly  cease,  and  when  his  father 
finally  asks  the  boy  how  he  is  progressing  as  a  hornist, 
he  tells  his  parent  that  he  has  traded  off  his  horn  for  a 
fiddle  or  an  accordeon,  and  explains,  by  showing  his 
upper  lip,  which  is  swelled  up  to  twice  its  natural  size, 
that  he  is  not  cut  out  for  playing  a  wind  instrument. 
That  horn  will  be  traded  all  over  the  neighborhood, 
and  will  finally  be  found  in  a  garret,  jammed  out  of 
shape,  and  the  brass  band  fever  will  have  passed  away. 
Among  the  greatest  failures  of  the  world,  there  are 
none  that  are  sadder  than  the  failure  of  a  boy  to  learn 
to  play  a  brass  horn. 


THE  GUITAE  PEEIOD. 

is  a  time  in  the  life  of  every  boy  when  he 
is  taken  with  the  fever  to  learn  to  play  the 
guitar.  The  fever  comes  on  about  the  time  that  he 
first  falls  in  love,  and  that  is  at  the  age  of  fourteen  or 
fifteeen.  He  may  think  he  is  in  love  at  twelve  years 
of  age,  but  that  is  only  a  symptom.  At  fourteen,  he 
is  in  love  to  such  an  extent  that  it  actually  makes  him 
tired  to  carry  it  around.  He  has  been  reading  novels 
in  which  there  is  always  a  Spaniard,  or  an  Italian 
lover,  dressed  in  fantastic  costume,  who  takes  a  guitar 
3Jid  goes  to  serenade  the  girl  in  the  novel,  and  she 


30  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

comes  to  the  window  and  throws  a  kiss  at  the  lover, 
and  then  comes  down  herself,  and  they  lallygag  on  the 
grass  and  talk  foreign  love  and  catch  cold;  and  the 
boy  thinks  that  is  about  the  finest  scheme  that  he  ever 
read  of,  and  he  decides  to  obtain  a  guitar.  It  is  some 
days  before  he  can  muster  up  courage  enough  to  speak 
to  his  mother  about  buying  a  guitar,  and  he  wouldn't 
dare  to  speak  to  his  father  about  it.  His  mother  has 
noticed  that  he  has  not  seemed  well  lately,  and  as  she 
has  watched  him  moping  around  and  sighing,  she  has 
felt  that  he  is  having  his  young  li^e  sapped  away  by 
study,  or  that  worms  are  feeding  on  his  damask  stom 
ach.  The  old  man,  who  has  been  there,  knows  that 
the  kid  is  in  love,  and  his  recipe  would  be  weeding 
onions,  or  carrying  in  coal;  but  the  good  mother's 
tender  heart  is  touched,  and  she  consents  to  the  guitar 
scheme,  and  shortly  afterward  there  is  a  weird,  ghostly 
rfound  coming  from  the  attic  that  is  a  cross  between 
the  aeolian  music  of  a  breeze  sighing  through  a  wire 
window  screen,  and  a  couple  of  cats  tuning  up  for  a 
gooseberry  bush  symphony  in  E-flat,  with  boot-jack 
bouquets.  The  boy  thumbs  the  strings  of  the  guitar 
in  silence,  when  his  father  is  not  around,  and  dreams 
of  the  time  when  he  can  play  an  accompaniment  to  a 
love  song,  and  put  on  a  velvet  jacket,  trimmed  with 
gold  lace,  a  wide  sombrero,  and  go  to  the  house  of  his 
girl  and  warble  through  the  black  moustache  which  he 
is  sure  will  soon  put  in  an  appearance  on  his  lip.  O, 
how  he  suffers,  as  he  thumbs  the  strings  and  fails  to 
detect  the  first  principles  of  a  tune ;  but  how  patiently 
he  works.  He  keeps  it  up  until  he  wears  the  skin  off 
his  fingers,  about  which  time  he  is  surprised  by  his 


THE   GUITAR  PEEIOD.  31 


father,  who  follows  up  the  strange,  weird  sound,  and 
takes  the  boy  by  the  neck,  and  in  two  minutes  shakes 
tne  iove  all  out  of  him,  and  sets  him  at  work  mowing 
away  hay  in  the  barn.  There  is  no  one  thing  that  will 
take  the  incipient  fourteen-year-old  love  out  of  a  boy 
like  mowing  away  hay  in  a  barn.  He  does  not  have 
time  to  dream  of  the  Spaniard  with  the  guitar,  and  the 
beautiful  girl  at  the  casement,  dressed  in  flowing  robes, 
and  her  hair  gathered  in  a  blue  ribbon.  He  has  tc 
pitch  hay  or  be  covered  up,  and  so  he  pitches  hay. 

The  guitar  period  is  one  of  the  most  critical  periods 
in  the  life  of  a  boy.  If  he  succeeds  in  learning  to  play 
a  tune,  and  his  voice  becomes  trained  to  such  an  extent 
that  he  can  sing  without  being  frightened  at  the  noise, 
then  he  is  gone.  From  that  out  he  becomes  a  dude, 
whose  sole  ambition  is  to  be  called  upon  to  sing ;  and 
he  will  try  to  look  sweet,  and  will  sing  love  songs  at 
private  parties,  with  his  hand  in  his  bosom,  and  think 
the  ladies  all  yearn  for  him,  when  they  feel  as  though 
they  would  like  to  take  him  across  their  knees,  and 
caress  him  with  a  press-board.  He  will  be  no  good  on 
earth,  and  will  haunt  music-stores,  and  have  no  ambi 
tion  but  to  go  to  some  place  where  there  is  to  be  music, 
and  where  he  will  be  called  upon  to  "  favor  the  com 
pany."  He  becomes  the  laughing-stock  of  his  friends, 
his  parents  are  ashamed  of  him,  and  his  voice  become* 
his  sole  care,  and  he  never  amounts  to  a  row  of  pins, 
When  a  boy  arrives  a  the  guitar  period,  and  begins  ta 
go  around  as  though  he  was  too  weak  to  walk  and  too- 
lazy  to  eat,  and  crawls  oif  to  read  novels,  and  sighs 
when  his  mother  looks  lovingly  at  him,  then  is  the  time 
to  wake  him  up,  and  the  father  is  the  Qnly  one  to  do 


32 

it.  It  has  got  to  be  done  right  away,  or  it  will  be  ever 
lastingly  too  late,  for  every  day  that  the  fever  is 
allowed  to  remain  in  his  system  makes  it  harder  to 
break  it  up.  Some  fathers  can  talk  a  boy  out  of  the 
guitar  disease,  and  show  him  that  he  is  liable  to  grad 
uate  as  a  dude,  and  some  try  the  method  of  shaking. 
One  man  was  very  successful  with  his  boy,  by  follow 
ing  him  to  the  attic  and  catching  him  in  the  act  of 
fumbling  the  guitar,  and  taking  him  by  the  collar  with 
one  hand,  and  the  guitar  by  the  neck  with  the  other,  and 
Vrearing  up  the  guitar  over  the  lower  level  of  the  boy's 
spine,  and  sending  the  boy  out  in  the  pasture  to  wean 
a  calf  and  teach  it  to  drink  out  of  a  pail ;  but  that 
always  seemed  a  little  harsh,  as  we  had  to  pay  for  the 
guitar  in  installments  afterward,  and  the  mother  of 
the  calf  drove  us  over  a  fence  real  spry.  However,  a 
boy  wants  to  be  attended  to  at  the  guitar  *period,  and 
shown  the  folly  of  it,  or  he  will  hate  himself  forever 
after.  When  parents  find  it  coming  on,  they  should 
consult  each  other,  and  take  prompt  action,  or  the  boy 
that  is  their  pride  will  go  through  life  singing  through 
his  nose,  "  Odly  a  Padsy  Blossom,"  or  "  O  Cub,  O  Cub, 
with  Be,  the  Bood  is  Beebing." 


AKTHUB'S  BLISTEEED  NOSE. 


the  most  trying  experience  President 
Arthur  has  had  since  he  has  filled  the  executive 
chair,  was  in  entertaining  a  delegation  from  a  BostoD 
temperance  alliance,  on  his  return  from  Florida.  The 


ABTHUB'B  BUBTEBED  Noes.  89 

delegation  consisted  of  hall  a  dozen  dried-up  men  with 
blue  spectacles  and  umbrellas,  and  several  ancient 
females  who  looked  as  though  they  never  could  endure 
a  man  who  touched  or  tasted  any  intoxicating  bever 
age.  They  had  an  appointment  to  meet  the  President, 
to  talk  with  him  about  the  cause  of  temperance,  which 
was  dear  to  their  hearts.  He  was  just  back  from  his 
fishing  excursion,  and  as  he  pnt  some  cold  cream  on  a 
place  on  his  nose  where  the  skin  had  come  off,  pre 
paratory  to  going  into  the  Blue  Room  to  meet  the 
delegation,  his  servant  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  President,  I 
had  rather  you  would  meet  any  other  delegation  on 
earth  than  this  temperance  crowd.  They  have  come 
to  size  you  up,  and  see  if  the  reports  that  you  steam  it 
too  much  are  true,  and  your  nose  and  face  is  a  dead 
give  away.  None  of  the  delegation  probably  ever 
went  fishing,  and  it  will  be  hard  to  convince  them  that 
the  blisters  and  sunburn  is  not  the  result  of  looking 
upon  the  wine.  Now,  the  first  thing  you  do,  when  you 
meet  them,  you  apologize  for  your  appearance,  and 
talk  about  fishing  in  the  hot  sun,  and  all  that." 

The  President  felt  a  little  nervous,  but,  after  throw 
ing  his  cigar-stub  away,  he  went  into  the  room  where 
the  delegation  wa~,  looking  like  a  boiled  lobster.  The 
delegation  was  drawn  up  in  line,  and  every  eye  was  on 
his  nose.  The  leader  made  a  few  remarks  on  the  object 
of  their  visit,  and  while  he  was  speaking  the  women 
looked  at  each  other,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  told  you 
so,"  "What  a  disgusting  exhibition,"  etc.,  and  the 
President  blushed  until  you  could  touch  a  match  to  his 
face  anywhere.  When  the  leader  tad  concluded,  the 
President  said: 
8 


34  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  glad  as  I  am  to  see  so  dis 
tinguished  a  party,  I  must  apologize  for  my  appearance. 
The  fact  of  it  is,  a  few  of  us  have  been  indulging  in  a 
little " 

"Don't  apologize,  Mr.  President,"  said  a  vinegar- 
faced  female.  "  We  can  readily  take  in  the  situation 
by  your  face.  It  is  a  duty  we  owe  to  ourselves  and  the 
country  to  reason  witi.  you.  Strong  drink  is  the  bane 
of  our  land.  Oh,  why,  why  will  men  put  a  serpent  in 
their  mouths  to  steal  away  - — " 

"  But,  excuse  me,  madam,"  said  the  President,  inter 
rupting  the  female,  "you  are  mistaken.  The  direct 
cause  of  this  sanguinary  appearance  of  my  face  and 
nose,  is  owing  to  a  little  recreation,"  and  he  rubbed 
his  nose  with  his  finger  to  see  if  any  more  skin  was 
loose.  "  Chandler  and  a  lot  of  us  who  had  been  bot 
tled  up  here  for  many  months,  decided  to  imbibe  a 
little  of  th— " 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  said  one  of  the  blue  nosed  gentle 
men,  "  we  do  not  care  for  any  confession  as  to  what 
you  and  Chandler  imbibed.  We  feel  that  a  few 
words  from  us  can  do  no  harm,  and  while  it  may  seem 
out  of  place  for  private  citizens  to  advise  a  chief,  mag 
istrate,  our  position  as  temperance  people  makes  us 
bold  to  ask  you  to  banish  the  wine  cup  from  your 
table,  and  set  an  example  that  can  safely  be  followed 
by  the  youth  of  the  land." 

During  the  talk  c ''  the  blue  nosed  man  the  President 
swallowed  a  bit  of  tobacco  that  had  remained  in  his 
mouth  from  his  cigar,  and  began  to  hiccough.  You 
know  how  a  little  tobacco  will  sometimes  cause  a  man 
to  act  as  though  he  was  full  The  President  would 


35 

almost  have  given  his  right  hand  if  the  tobacco  had 
been  in  Hades  instead  of  down  his  neck,  for  he  could 
see  at  the  first  "  hie  "  that  every  eye  in  the  delegation 
was  on  him,  and  all  believed  he  was  drunk.  His  face 
flushed,  and  he  was  more  embarrassed  than  he  had 
ever  been  before  in  his  life.  He  looked  around  fo* 
some  one  to  help  him  out,  but  he  was  alone,  except  the 
temperance  delegation.  Putting  his  hand  over  his 
mouth  to  hide  the  hiccough  that  the  wicked  tobacco 
had  caused,  he  said : 

"  Imbibing  a  desire  to  go  fishing,  Mr.  Chandler  and 
myself  visited  Florida,  and  for  several  days  we  were 
exposed  to  the  elements,  and  became  sunburnt,  and 
you  (hie)  misconstrue  my  appearance  to  be  the  result 
of  (hie)  drink.  It  is  not  so.  It  is  seldom  that  1 
(hie)  drink.  This  hiccough  is  the  result  of  swallow 
ing  a  bit  of  tobacco,  and  is  unfortunate  in  coming  at 
this  time.  I  will  weigh  well  what  you  have  said,  and 
now  I  bid  you  (hie)  good  day,"  and  the  President 
bowed  and  retired,  while  the  delegation  looked  about 
the  room,  and  said  to  each  other  that  they  had  wit 
nessed  a  sight  that  would  cause  the  stoutest  heart 
to  quail,  and  they  went  out  of  the  White  House  sick 
at  heart.  "James,"  said  the  President  to  his  servant, 
when  he  got  to  his  room,  "  go  to  Dr.  Bliss  and  tell  him 
I  almost  wish  I  were  dead,  and  I  want  him  to  come 
and  attend  me.  Tell  him  to  bring  something  that  will 
cure  sunburn  and  blisters  on  the  nose  at  once,  or  I  am 
a  ruined  man";  and  as  James  went  out  after  the  doctor 
the  President  saturated  a  handkerchief  in  some  cooling 
liquid  and  laid  it  over  his  face,  and  lay  upon  a  lounge 
and  dreamed  of  the  Florida  fish  and  how  like  blazes 


36  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK= 

they  bit,  and  how  the  mosquitoes  got  in  their  work* 
and  as  he  dosed  off  into  the  land  of  dreams  he  could 
see  the  air  full  of  female  temperance  reformers  with 
blue  spectacles  and  umbrellas,  and  he  thought  how  a 
good  man  is  sometimes  misunderstood. 


DID  EVE  RECEIVE  CALLERS* 

A  LADY  who  received  callers  on  New  Year's 
writes  to  ^The  Sun"  for  its  opinion  as  to 
whether  Eve  furnished  her  New  Year's  callers  wine  or 
coffee,  when  they  called  on  her  in  the  Garden  of  Eden, 
and  what  we  think  about  the  Adam  and  Eve  business, 
anyway,  as  a  family  to  take  pattern  after.  "The  Sun" 
is  like  a  hotel  clerk,  or  a  ticket  agent — always  willing 
to  tell  all  it  knows,  and  do  it  politely;  but  such  ques 
tions  as  the  above  require  too  much  study  in  order  to 
give  a  clear  answer.  As  we  understand  it,  Eve  did  not 
make  a  practice  of  receiving  on  New  Year's.  That  is, 
she  didn't  have  her  name  and  address  in  the  papers, 
though  she  remained  at  home,  and  didn't  hang  out 
a  basket  for  cards,  and  anybody  that  called  was  wel 
come.  The  only  caller  she  received  on  the  first  of  Jan 
uary  of  the  year  one,  was  a  fellow  with  his  hair  parted 
in  the  middle,  and  a  society  smile,  and  the  report  of 
the  affair  in  the  society  paper  the  next  morning  said 
she  set  out  the  best  she  had  in  the  house,  and  the  affair 
was  the  event  of  the  season.  She  may  not  have  served 
wine  to  the  devil,  though  he  is  alleged  to  have  acted 
as  though  he  was  half-shot  when  he  went  away.  >  It  is 


DID   EVE   RECEIVE   CALLERS?  87 

certain  that  the  hostess  set  up  the  apples  anc  they 
may  have  turned  to  cider  in  his  stomach;  or  he  may 
have  been  drinking  Tom  and  Jerry  at  a  saloon  before 
he  started  out  calling.  It  is  probable  that  the  first 
thing  that  Eve's  caller  said  when  he  got  in  the  parlor, 
after  leaving  a  pair  of  last  year's  arctic  overshoes  in 
the  hall,  and  looking  at  a  pair  of  new  ones  there  that 
he  thought  would  fit  him,  was:  "Ah!  By  Jove,  you 
know,  I  wish  you  a  happy  New  Year,  awfully."  And 
then  he  laughed  and  chewed  his  cane,  and  Eve  kicked 
her  fig-leaf  train  under  the  piano,  and  stepped  forward 
so  her  satin  slippers  would  show  under  her  dress,  and 
she  said :  "  Thanks.  The  same  to  you.  You  must  give 
me  a  card."  Then,  we  have  no  reasonable  doubt, 
th«  caller,  while  searching  in  his  pocket  for  a  card, 
smiled  on  Eve,  and  said :  "  Is  Adam  making  calls 
to-day?"  And  when  Eve  told  her  caller  that  Adam 
was  out  fishing  through  a  hole  in  the  ice,  that  settled 
it.  As  we  interpret  the  scriptures,  the  caller  waited 
for  Adam  to  get  back,  to  hear  him  lie  about  the  fish 
he  had  caught,  and  it  being  late,  the  caller  remained 
to  supper,  and  they  talked  over  the  apple  trade,  and 
the  caller,  no  doubt,  gave  Adam  many  points  on  the 
apple  crop  of  the  year  two,  and  Adam  sold  short,  and 
when  he  came  to  deliver,  he  had  to  put  up  a  margin  or 
get  off  the  board  of  trade,  and  be  sold  out.  That  is  the 
way  it  looks  at  this  late  day. 

Adam  and  Eve  may  have  been  all  right  in  their  day, 
but  to  copy  after  them  nowadays  would  not  be  pop 
ular.  In  the  first  place,  they  did  not  have  the  advan 
tage  of  growing  up  and  working  for  a  living,  and 
hewing  out  their  own  fortunes.  They  were  created 


88  DECK'S  BOSS  BOOR. 

full  size  to  begin  on,  and  set  up  in  business  with  no 
effort  on  their  part,  and  they  didn't  know  anything 
about  bringing  up  children.  As  near  as  we  can  get  at 
it,  Adam  was  a  drinking  man,  who  had  rather  go  out 
and  have  a  high  time,  and  come  rolling  home  in  the 
morning,  than  to  work  the  farm,  and  it  is  no  wonder 
Cain  and  Abel  turned  out  to  be  regular  Waukesha 
roughs,  and  when  we  learned  that  Cain  had  killed 
Abel  it  did  not  surprise  us  a  bit.  It  was  a  standoff 
which  of  them  should  be  killed,  and  Cain  got  the  drop 
on  Abel,  and  he  passed  in  his  chips.  If  Adam  had 
been  any  sort  of  a  man,  he  would  have  walked  in 
amongst  those  boys,  when  they  got  to  quarreling,  and 
took  one  of  them  by  the  collar,  and  the  other  by  the 
pants,  and  wiped  the  gravel  walk,  in  the  Garden  with 
them,  and  showed  them  that  while  they  might  be 
pretty  healthy  boys,  they  must  not  think  they  owned 
the  earth,  and  all  and  singular  the  appurtenances 
thereunto  belonging,  or  words  to  that  effect.  But 
Adam  didn't  have  any  gall.  He  set  them  a  bad  exam 
ple.  His  going  into  that  apple  speculation,  at  the 
instigation  of  the  devil,  shows  what  kind  of  a  man 
he  would  be  to  run  a  farm  at  this  age  of  the  world. 
Why,  he  was  a  regular  sucker,  and  any  patent  right 
man,  or  lightning-rod  peddler,  could  have  sold  him  a 
county  right,  or  put  up  a  lightning-rod  on  his  barn, 
and  he  would  have  given  them  his  note  for  any 
amount.  And  Eve  was  not  much  better.  With  her 
easy-going  manner,  and  lack  of  decision  of  character, 
she  would  let  a  book  agent  or  a  sewing  machine  ped 
dler  give  her  taffy,  and  she  would  get  mashed  on  them, 
and  they  could  sell  her  anything  they  had,  and  she 


A  MERE  BOY  OF  TWENTY-THREE.  39 

would  give  them  Adam's  note.  If  Eve  was  living  here 
now,  and  didn't  know  any  more  than  she  did  in  the 
Garden  of  Eden,  a  plaster  of  Paris  image  peddler  could 
come  along  and  trade  her  an  image  of  Shakespeare  or 
Guiteau,  and  get  the  last  pair  of  pants  Adam  had. 
She  seemed  to  be  a  woman  who  could  not  say  no,  and 
if  she  was  here  now  her  house  would  be  a  picnic  for 
tramps,  and  agents  for  the  amelioration  of  the  condi 
tion  of  the  heathen  could  get  her  to  subscribe  the  last 
dollar  Adam  had.  But  we  should  not  blame  Adam 
and  Eve.  They  did  not  have  the  advantages  of  society 
and  corsets  and  tight  pants  that  we  have,  and  we  must 
overlook  any  errors  of  judgment  on  their  part.  How 
ever,  it  is  not  a  bad  idea  to  profit  by  their  errors  and 
lack  of  experience.  If  some  one  would  get  up  a 
chromo  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  Garden  of  Eden, 
Adam  riding  a  bicycle  with  quick  pants  on  and  a  pan 
cake  hat,  and  Eve  with  a  short  dress  and  clocked 
stockings  and  a  red  parasol,  or  with  roller  skates  on, 
we  should  be  better  able  to  realize  their  loneliness  in 
the  Garden  of  Eden,  and  cease  to  wonder  that  they 
welcomed  the  devil  when  he  called. 


A  "MERE  BOY  OF  TWENTY-THREE.* 

IT  is  said  that  when  any  one  speaks  to  Mrs.  Langtry 
about  her  impropriety  in  being  so  familiar  witb 
young  Gebhardt,  she  looks  surprised,  and  says :  "  Why, 
Freddy  is  a  mere  boy.    He  is  only  twenty-three  years 
old."    We  do  not  desire  to  give  advice  where  it  is  not 


£0  PECK'8  BOSS  BOOK. 

needed,  but  as  an  old  man  we  cannot  help  telling  Mrs, 
Langtry  to  beware  of  the  American  boys  of  twenty- 
three.  English  boys  of  that  age  may  be  mere  chil 
dren  that  handsome  women  can  use  as  pets,  the  same 
as  they  would  uso  poodles,  with  no  serious  results. 
The  English  boys  of  twenty  three  may  be  puling 
infants  that  can  be  held  in  the  lap,  but  the  American 
boy  of  that  age  is  not  that  kind  of  a  hairpin,  and 
a  handsome  English  woman  who  presumes  upon  the 
youth  and  innocence  of  such  a  child  is  liable  to  wake 
up  to  a  realizing  sense,  when  it  is  everlastingly  too 
late,  that  the  American  youth  of  twenty-three  is 
endowed  with  certain  inalienable  rights,  among  which 
is  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  Freddy 
may  appear  to  be,  to  the  untutored  mind  of  an  English 
beauty,  a  harmless  little  child,  good  enough  to  carry 
shawls  to  a  matinee,  but  unacquainted  with  the  wick 
edness  of  the  world ;  but  when  she  learns  that  Ameri 
can  boys  in  roundabouts  do  not  permit  handsome 
women  to  pet  them  with  impunity  without  showing 
that  they  know  what  is  the  matter  with  Hanner,  she 
will  keep  the  twenty-three-year-old  American  little 
boy  on  the  other  side  of  the  barbed  wire  fence.  We 
do  not  blame  the  lady.  She  has  simply  been  deceived 
in  the  style  of  the  American  youth.  She  has  lived  all 
'her  life  where  men  have  become  princes  before  they 
can  say  their  souls  are  their  own.  She  has  lived  where 
men  in  the  ordinary  walks  of  life  think  they  are  in  luck 
if  they  are  allowed  to  look  at  a  handsome  woman,  and 
who  never  know  what  it  is  to  love  until  they  are  so  old 
that  they  wear  false  teeth.  She  has  lived  where  a  boy 
of  twenty-three  is  not  allowed  to  go  in  company  with- 


A    MERE    BOY    OF    TWENTY-THREE.  41 

out  his  mother,  and  where  they  do  not  learn  to  be  truly 
bad  till  late  in  life.  In  acting  as  a  mother  *o  young 
Gebhardt,  Mrs.  Langtry  is  taking  many  chances,  and 
as  an  old  man  who  knows  much  of  the  American 
youth  from  experience,  we  advise  her  to  quit. 

If  the  English  lady  only  knew  of  half  the  damage 
that  has  been  done  by  American  mere  boys  of  twenty 
three  and  under,  she  wrould  have  a  care,  and  would  not 
allow  this  youth  the  freedom  of  her  boudoir.  We  do 
not  know  what  a  boudoir  is,  but  it  is  something  that 
belongs  to  a  woman,  and  Freddy  is  too  young  to  be 
there.  It  is  none  of  our  business,  but  as  the  lady  seems 
to  be  unsophisticated — at  least  no  one  knows  for  certain 
that  she  has  been  sophisticated — we  deem  it  a  duty  to 
warn  her  against  these  boys.  It  is  unsafe  to  hold  this 
youth  in  her  lap,  just  as  unsafe  as  it  would  be  to  hold 
a  grown  person.  Because  she  looks  upon  him  as  a 
mere  boy,  she  may  be  tempted  to  let  him  kiss  her,  and 
that  wrould  break  her  all  up.  American  boys  of 
twenty-three  kiss  so  near  like  grown  persons  as  to 
deceive  the  oldest  inhabitants,  and  if  he  is  a  represen 
tative  American  youth  and  she  allows  him  privileges 
far  beyond  his  years,  she  will  find  that  it  is  not  good 
for  man  to  be  alone  with  an  English  beauty.  She  rnay 
not  believe  it,  but  American  mere  boys  have  beerj 
known  to  frequent  the  vicinity  of  ladies  who  did  not 
realize  that  the  boys  were  men  to  all  intents  and  pur 
poses,  until  it  has  been  necessary  to  call  in  the  neighbors 
and  wake  up  the  old  folks,  and  call  the  minister  up  in 
the  night  to  celebrate  nuptiab  and  there  was  trouble 
all  around.  We  mention  these  things  that  this  lone 
woman  may  realize  that  what  appears  in  America  to  be 


42  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

a  "  mere  boy  "  may  actually  turn  out  to  be  the  oldest 
kind  of  a  person,  full  of  guile,  who  plays  the  fool  in 
buying  diamonds  for  an  actress  while  in  his  heart  there 
lurks  wicked  designs  upon  her  peace  of  mind.  The 
woods  are  full  of  them,  and  as  an  elderly  person  who 
hates  to  see  such  innocence  placed  in  an  awkward  posi 
tion,  we  go  out  of  the  beaten  path  and  implore  this 
woman,  who  has  such  child-like  faith  in  "  a  mere  boy 
of  twenty-three,"  to  compel  him  to  keep  on  his  side  of 
the  cutter,  and  not,  under  any  circumstances,  to  allow 
herself  to  drive  the  horses  while  he  puts  his  arm  around 
her  sealskin  cloak  to  get  his  hands  warm.  Freddy  is  a 
bold,  bad  man,  and  we  would  bet  on  it.  He  would 
admit  it,  himself,  privately,  we  have  no  doubt. 


TROUBLE  ABOUT  HEADING  A  NEWSPAPER. 

A  MAN  came  into  the  "  Sun  "  office  on  Tuesday  with 
a  black  eye,  a  strip  of  court  plaster  across  his 
cheek,  one  arm  in  a  sling,  and  as  he  leaned  on  a  crutch 
and  wiped  the  perspiration  away  from  around  a  lump 
on  his  forehead,  with  a  red  cotton  handkerchief,  he 
asked  if  the  editor  was  in.  "We  noticed  that  there  was 
quite  a  healthy  smell  of  stock-yards  about  the  visitor, 
but  thinking  that  in  his  crippled  condition  we  could 
probably  whip  him,  if  worse  came  to  worse,  we  admit 
ted  that  we  were  in. 

"  Well,  I  want  to  stop  my  paper,"  said  he,  as  he  sat 
down  on  one  edge  of  a  chair,  as  though  it  might  hurt, 


"DIB  SHE  HOIST?     WELL,  LOOK  AT  ME!' 


TROUBLE    ABOUT   BEADING    A    NEWSPAPER.  45 

"  Scratch  my  name  right  off.  You  are  responsible  for 
my  condition.'* 

Thinking  thtf  man  might  have  been  taking  our 
advice  to  deaf  men,  to  always  walk  on  a  railroad  track 
if  they  could  find  one,  we  were  preparing  to  scratch 
him  off  without  any  argument,  believing  that  he  was  a 
man  who  knew  when  he  had  enough,  when  he  spoke 
up  as  folio ws : 

"  The  amount  of  it  is  this.  I  live  out  in  Jefferson 
county,  and  I  come  in  on  the  new  Northwestern  road, 
just  to  get  recreation.  I  am  a  farmer,  and  keep 
cows.  I  recently  read  an  article  in  your  paper  about 
a  dairymen's  convention,  where  one  of  the  mottoes 
over  the  door  was, l  Treat  your  cow  as  you  would  a 
lady,'  and  the  article  said  it  was  contended  by  our  best 
dairymen  that  a  cow,  treated  in  a  polite,  gentlemanly 
manner,  as  though  she  was  a  companion,  would  give 
twice  as  much  milk.  The  plan  seemed  feasible  to  me. 
I  had  been  a  hard  man  with  stock,  and  thought  maybe 
that  was  one  reason  my  cows  always  dried  up  when 
butter  was  forty  cents  a  pound,  and  gave  plenty  of 
milk  when  butter  was  only  worth  fifteen  cents  a  pound. 
I  decided  to  adopt  your  plan,  and  treat  a  cow  as  I 
would  a  lady.  I  had  a  brindle  cow  that  never  had 
been  very  much  mashed  on  me,  and  I  decided  to  com 
mence  on  her,  and  the  next  morning  after  I  read  your 
devilish  paper,  I  put  on  my  Sunday  suit  and  a  white 
plug  hat  that  I  bought  the  year  Greeley  run  for  Pres 
ident,  and  went  to  the  barn  to  milk.  I  noticed  the  old 
cow  seemed  to  be  bashful  and  frightened,  but  taking 
off  my  hat  and  bowing  politely,  I  said,  '  Madame, 
excuse  the  seeming  impropriety  of  the  request,  kut  will 


46  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOR, 

you  do  me  the  favor  to  hoist  ? '  At  the  same  time  1 
tapped  her  gently  on  the  flank  with  my  plug  hat,  and 
putting  the  tin  pail  on  the  floor  under  her,  1  sat  down 
on  the  milking-stool." 

"  Did  she  hoist  ? "  said  we,  rather  anxious  to  know 
how  the  advice  of  President  Smith,  of  Sheboygan,  the 
great  dairyman,  had  worked. 

"  Did  she  hoist  ?  Well,  look  at  me,  and  see  if  you 
think  she  hoisted.  Say,  I  tell  you  now  in  confidence, 
and  I  don't  want  it  repeated,  but  that  cow  raised  right 
up  and  kicked  me  with  all  four  feet,  switch  3d  me  with 
her  tail,  and  hooked  me  with  both  horns,  ail  at  once ; 
and  when  I  got  up  out  of  the  bedding  in  the  stall,  and 
dug  my  hat  out  of  the  manger,  and  the  milking-stool 
out  from  under  me,  and  began  to  maul  that  cow,  I 
forgot  all  about  the  proper  treatment  of  horned  cattle. 
Why,  she  fairly  galloped  over  me,  and  I  never  want  to 
read  your  old  paper  again." 

We  tried  to  explain  to  him  that  the  advice  did  not 
apply  to  brindle  cows  at  all,  but  he  hobbled  out,  the 
maddest  man  that  ever  asked  a  cow  to  hoist  in  diplo 
matic  language. 


WHO  WILL  FIX  THIS? 


A  LADY  in  St.  Louis,  who  recently  lost  a  child,  and 
who  vainly  pleaded  with  the  authorities  of  the 
church  near  her  residence  not  to  ring  the  bell  on  a  Sun 
day  morning  when  her  little  darling  was  so  sick,  wants 
to  know  if  we  don't  think  people  would  go  to  church 


WHO    WILL   FIX    THIS?  47 

on  time  just  as  well  if  no  bells  were  rung.  Well,  yes, 
we  believe  they  would,  if  they  wanted  to.  When  the 
same  people  go  to  a  theater,  no  bell  is  rung,  and  they 
get  there  before  the  curtain  rises  with  remarkable  reg 
ularity.  No  bell  is  rung  to  call  these  church  members 
to  their  business,  and  yet  they  appear  regularly  at  the 
appointed  time.  No  be.1!  is  rung  to  tell  them  that  din 
ner  is  to  be  served,  and  yet  they  all  start  in  time  to 
get  there  before  it  gets  cold.  If  a  sociable  is  to  take 
place,  and  it  is  known  that  the  lunch  will  be  served  at 
eight  o'clock,  they  all  get  there  before  the  first  plate 
of  oyster  soup,  or  the  first  dish  of  ice  cream,  is  served, 
and  the  church  bell  does  not  ring  for  a  sociable.  When 
the  doors  of  a  circus  are  advertised  to  be  open  at  two 
o'clock  we  baTre  noticed  that  no  church  member  conies' 
straggling  in  after  the  clown  has  sung  his  song,  and 
yet  the  bells  do  not  ring  for  a  circus.  We  cannot 
account  for  the  necessity  of  ringing  a  church  bell  that 
often  frightens  sick  persons  into  convulsions. 

But  there  are  so  many  things  in  the  world  that 
nobody  can  account  for.  Who  can  account  for  the 
fact  that  a  dizzy  actress  can  get  a  thousand  dollars  a 
week  for  repeating  lines  that  another  person  has  writ 
ten,  when  the  scholarly,  eloquent  divine,  whose  life  has 
been  passed  in  study,  cannot  draw  a  house  big  enough 
to  pay  him  a  frugal  living.  Who  can  account  for  the 
fact  that  a  girl  who  can  kick  high  is  able  to  draw  fivft 
hundred  dollars  a  week,  while  the  good  woman  who 
goes  about  as  a  missionary,  reforming  the  vicious,  is 
thrown  a  quarter  to  get  rid  of  her,  often  by  the  same 
men  who  pay  a  dollar  toward  the  salary  of  the  high 
kicker.  It  is  hard  to  account  for  the  fact  that  a  horse 


48  f'ECK^S   BOBS   BOOR. 

race  will  clear  a  thousand  dollars  in  one  day,  while  a 
church  fair,  which  should  be  patronized  by  thousands, 
figures  up  about  enough,  after  a  week's  hard  work,  to 
pay  for  a  dressing-gown  for  the  minister.  There  is 
something  terribly  wrong  about  this  world,  but  we 
can't  untangle  it.  If  we  had  our  way,  the  prize-fighters 
should  play  to  houses  smaller  than  the  prayer-meetings, 
and  the  ministers  should  preach  to  full  houses  at  a 
dollar  a  head,  tickets  sold  at  the  box-office,  and  it 
would  be  necessary  to  hang  out  a  sign,  "Standing 
room  only,"  and  no  bell  should  ring  to  call  the  audi 
ence,  and  to  kill  sick  babies  in  an  adjoining  block.  We 
•would  have  ministers  travel  in  private  cars,  and  nigger 
shows  travel  in  ordinary  passenger  coaches.  We  would 
have  the  horse-race  just  pay  expenses,  and  the  church 
sociable  make  a  barrel  of  money.  But  some  of  the 
rest  of  you  have  got  to  fix  this  thing,  and  average  it 
up.  We  have  tried  it  and  failed. 


A  CRICK  IN  THE  BACK. 

A  CORRESPONDENT  at  Council  Bluffs,  who  seems 
.JLJL  to  labor  under  the  impression  that  "The  Sun" 
knows  everything,  asks  what  is  the  cause  of  a  crick  in 
the  back,  and  what  is  the  best  remedy  for  it,  and  what 
is  a  good  preventative  against  it.  If  there  is  one  thing 
we  know  more  about  than  another,  it  is  a  crick  in  the 
back ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there  is  one  thing  we 
know  less  about,  it  is  that  same  crick  in  the  back. 
That  is,  we  experience  its  beauties,  and  know  nothing 


A    CKIGK    IN    THE    BACK.  49 

of  its  origin  and  nothing  will  prevent  it  when  it  is 
due.  A  man  may  chop  wood,  shovel  snow,  drive  a  pair 
of  pulling  horses,  exercise  with  dumb-bells,  go  through 
a  gymnasium  and  try  all  the  appliances  for  developing 
muscle,  and  expect  every  minute  that  his  back  will 
break,  and  it  will  be  all  right.  And  yet  some  day  he 
will  be  putting  on  his  overcoat,  or  will  reach  across  his 
desk  for  a  photograph  of  his  girl,  or  pick  up  a  paper 
off  the  floor,  and  the  crick  catches  him,  and  he  is  as 
limp  as  a  rag,  and  suffers  horrors  for  two  days ;  every 
breath  he  draws  seems  to  go  right  through  that  crick, 
When  a  large,  healthy  man  has  a  crick  in  the  back,  he 
realizes  what  a  weak,  puny  thing  he  is.  Before  the 
arrival  of  the  crick  he  admires  himself  in  the  glass 
before  retiring,  as  he  looks  at  his  muscle,  and  almost 
wishes  somebody  would  pitch  onto  him  to  whip  him, 
when  he  could  wade  in  and  maul  the  filling  out  of  his 
antagonist.  He  often  looks  up  in  an  impudent  manner 
to  a  rough,  as  though  he  wished  for  an  excuse  to  thump 
him;  and  if  a  lady  was  insulted  in  his  presence,  he 
feels  that  he  would  make  a  hero  of  himself  in  her 
defense.  He  wants  something  to  occur  that  will  give 
him  an  opportunity  to  show  that  though  he  is  confined 
to  an  office,  and  does  no  hard  work,  that  he  is  endowed 
with  Herculean  strength,  and  it  would  be  mighty  unsafe 
for  an  ordinary  man  to  tackle  him.  But  when  the 
crick  is  due  by  schedule  time,  and  shows  upon  his  back, 
the  great,  powerful  man  is  a  perfect  baby,  and  he  is 
afraid  of  a  child  on  a  handsled.  It  is  then  that  he 
hunts  up  an  old  revolver  and  carries  it  when  he  goes 
down  town  nights,  for  fear  he  will  be  assaulted.  Before 
the  crick  arrives  ho  just  aches  to  have  sand-baggers 


50 

and  foot-pads  attack  him,  and  as  he  walks  along  lie 
picks  out  places  where  he  would  knock  sand  baggers 
down,  and  in  his  mind  he  has  them  corded  up  fill  along 
the  streets ;  but  after  the  crick  comes,  a  living  skeleton 
with  a  link  of  sausage  could  drive  him  all  over  town. 
As  to  a  remedy  for  a  crick  in  the  back,  there  are 
several,  but  none  of  them  seem  to  do  any  good. 

The  crick  goes  off  of  its  own  accord,  after  it  gets  in 
its  work  and  shows  a  man  that  he  is  only  a  poor  weak 
creature.  Sometimes  we  think  all  the  crick  is  for  is 
to  take  the  conceit  out  of  a  fellow,  and  learn  him  to 
keep  his  mouth  shut  about  being  a  terror  on  the  muscle. 
A  plaster  is  very  good,  but  they  always  put  it  on  a  few 
inches  above  or  below  the  place  where  the  crick  is.  A 
crick  is  very  changeable.  You  know  where  it  is  per 
fectly  well,  and  when  you  get  your  back  prepared  for 
the  bill  posting  of  porous  plasters,  and  try  to  tell 
where  the  crick  was  last  felt,  you  can't  tell  to  save 
you.  You  wiggle  around  in  all  kinds  of  shapes  to  feel 
it,  so  as  to  tell  its  location  to  the  friend  who  is  acting 
as  bill  sticker,  but  you  can't  feel  a  pain  to  save  you, 
and  you  think  it  is  gone,  and  you  conclude  to  postpone 
the  plaster,  but  before  you  get  your  shirt  half  on,  the 
crick  gives  you  one  ache  that  makes  the  hair  stand  or 
your  bald  head,  but  it  seems  to  be  the  whole  length  o\ 
your  back,  and  you  have  the  plaster  put  on  on  genera) 
principles,  about  the  middle,  so  it  will  catch  the  crick 
on  its  up  or  down  trip  from  the  attic  to  the  basement 
of  the  spine.  A  porous  plaster  ought  to  be  a  good 
short  stop  to  a  game  of  crick  in  the  back,  but  our 
experience  is  that  the  plaster  muffs  the  crick  oftener 
than  it  takes  it  on  the  fly.  There  are  several  different 


THE  SEA-SICK  PRINCESS 

kinds  of  liniment,  each  of  which  is  better  than  the 
other,  but  as  the  crick  is  usually  inside  of  about  three 
inches  of  flesh  and  a  couple  of  inches  of  bone,  a  lini 
ment  that  is  in  luck  if  it  gets  through  the  skin  is  not  a 
very  good  detective  to  act  as  a  search  warrant  for  a 
crick  that  has  so  many  places  of  concealment,  and  is 
so  changeable  and  migratory.  The  best  doctors  will 
tell  you  when  you  go  to  them  with  a  crick,  that  you 
have  caught  cold,  and  it  has  settled  all  over  you,  and 
that  if  you  are  careful  you  will  be  better  when  you  get 
over  it.  There  is  something  very  consoling  about  this, 
and  you  pay  the  bill  of  the  doctor  with  a  feeling  that 
you  are  glad  the  bill  is  not  twice  as  big.  The  best 
thing  we  have  ever  tried  for  a  crick  in  the  back,  is  to 
grunt.  That  is  something  anybody  can  do  without 
assistance,  and  it  is  cheap,  and  if  it  does  not  do  any 
good  it  cannot  do  any  harm.  The  idea  some  people 
have  of  hiring  some  one  to  grunt  for  them  when  they 
have  a  crick  in  the  back,  is  an  evidence  of  laziness  and 
dependence.  Every  person  should  do  his  own  grunting, 
and  do  it  well,  and  when  the  crick  is  gone,  he  will  feel 
that  he  alone  has  cured  it.  If  there  is  anything  in  this 
that  can  benefit  our  Council  Bluff s  friend,  he  can  send 
a  registered  letter  or  a  post-office  order. 


THE  SEA-SICK  PKINCESS. 


A  DISPATCH  from  Boston  says  that  the  Princes* 
-£j~  Louise  was  greatly  weakened  by  the  strain  she 
was  compelled  to  undergo  during  the  tempestuous  voy 
age  from  Bermuda  to  Providence.  She  was  sea-sick 


52 

all  the  time,  and  could  not  rest  a  minute.  It  is  sad  to 
think  that  title  and  wealth  does  not  exempt  the  pos 
sessor  from  the  annoyances  that  ordinary  poor,  untitled 
persons  have,  when  traveling.  What  does  the  fact  of 
being  the  daughter  of  a  queen  amount  to,  if  one  must 
hold  the  top  of  her  head  on  and  lean  over  the  railing 
of  a  boat,  and  "yee-haw"  the  same  as  a  servant  girl, 
and  be  deathly  sick,  and  feel  as  though  the  ocean  is 
coming  up  and  the  princess  going  down,  and  vice  versa. 
It  seems  as  though  there  ought  to  be  something 
invented  that  could  cure  sea-sickness  in  the  royal  fam 
ilies,  and  the  world's  great  ones ;  but  probably  nothing 
but  taking  the  stomach  out  and  sending  it  by  express 
will  ever  prevent  sea-sickness.  In  sea-sickness,  the 
persons  of  royal  blood  realize  how  little  they  amount 
to,  and  for  this  reason  sea-sickness  is  a  good  thing. 
The  king,  or  the  queen,  or  the  princess,  who  can  hire 
or  command  somebody  to  do  anything  for  him  or  her 
that  is  unpleasant,  finds  when  it  comes  to  sea-sickness 
that  they  have  to  take  their  medicine,  and  do  their 
own  grunting,  and  their  own  swearing  or  praying,  as 
the  case  may  be.  When  the  princess  started  from  Ber 
muda,  and  the  Bermuda  onions,  that  she  had  eaten, 
began  to  assert  their  independence  and  show  symptoms 
of  a  desire  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  oppression  and 
emerge  from  their  bondage,  no  doubt  she  felt  as  though 
it  was  the  work  of  an  incendiary,  or  that  she  had  dis 
covered  a  new  dynamite  plot,  and  she  would  have  been 
glad  to  have  delegated  her  responsibility  in  the  matter 
to  other  hands,  or  stomachs,  but  the  law  of  nature 
is  the  same  with  princesses  as  it  is  with  peasants,  and 
though  she  sucked  a  lemon  with  all  her  royal  vigor,  it 


THE   SEA-SICK  PRINCESS.  53 

was  no  go,  and  the  onions  obtained  their  freedom.  On 
land  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  queen,  and  all  heads 
bowed  at  her  bidding ;  but  as  she  sat  there  on  a  camp 
stool,  with  a  shawl  over  her  head,  her  stomach  against 
the  railing,  and  her  hands  clasping  the  head  that 
throbbed  as  though  it  would  split,  she  had  to  attend  to 
her  own  knitting,  even  as  the  whale  did  when  Jonah 
was  a  cabin  passenger  in  one  of  the  first  sea  voyages. 
Poor  girl !  How  she  wished  she  was  home,  or  dead, 
or  anything  for  a  change.  How  she  wondered,  as  she 
loosened  her  corsets  and  grasped  the  rail  with  both 
hands,  with  a  convulsive  clutch  as  some  former  banquet 
seemed  to  desire  to  say  a  few  words  on  this  momentous 
occasion,  how  one  little  number  four  stomach  could 
contain  so  much  that  was  of  no  use  on  earth.  As  she 
gazed  into  the  green  water  and  thought  that  if  she 
owned  it  she  would  plane  it  down  until  it  was  as 
smooth  as  a  floor,  she  pictured  to  herself  the  Marquis 
of  Lome,  playing  fifteen  ball  pool  in  Boston,  and  drink 
ing  Canada  malt  whisky,  while  she  was  suffering,  and 
she  decided  to  give  him  a  piece  of  her  mind  if  she  had 
any  peace  of  mind  left,  when  she  met  him,  for  not  being 
present  to  hold  her  head,  or  have  a  sea-sick  duet  with 
her,  and  then  she  would  have  another  spasm  and  want 
te  see  tier  mother.  There  was  one  consolation,  and  one 
only,  to  the  princess.  The  servants  were  all  as  sick  as 
she  was,  except  one,  and  the  princess  would  gladly  have 
exchanged  places  with  the  Canadian  of  obscure  birth, 
who  sat  placidly  crocheting  a  blue  dog,  and  gazing  out 
upon  the  beautiful  sea  in  a  storm,  with  no  sea-sickness. 
How  the  princess  envied  that  girl  who  was  not  sick. 
Her  father  was  a  fisherman,  and  the  girl  had  been  out 


54 

in  many  a  storm,  and  her  stomach  had  got  so  it  would 
stay  right  side  up  in  any  weather,  and  near  her  was  a 
daughter  of  Queen  Victoria,  who  couldn't  tell  one 
minute  whether  she  would  have  her  shoes  left  on  her 
the  next.  It  is  sad  enough  to  be  a  princess  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  but  to  be  a  sea-sick  princess, 
for  four  long  days  and  nights,  is  enough  to  make  one 
sorry.  A  fortune  awaits  the  man  who  will  invent  some 
thing  by  which  a  person  can  hire  somebody  to  be  sea 
sick. 


THE  WEONG  LECTTJKEK. 


TDEAYER  DAM  is  one  of  the  greatest  places  for 
-•— '  jokes  that  can  be  found  in  a  day's  ride  on  a  pass. 
The  boys  are  now  telling  of  a  diabolical  joke  that  was 
played  on  a  young  man.  They  have  been  having  a 
course  of  lectures  there,  and  the  young  man  has  acted 
on  a  committee  that  has  taken  charge  of  the  lecturers, 
and  has  been  very  efficient.  The  last  lecture  was  given 
by  Ann  Eliza  Young,  one  of  the  relicts  of  the  late 
lamented  Brigham  Young.  She  was  at  a  hotel,  and 
there  was  also  a  lady  there  who  was  traveling  for  a 
corset  factory,  taking  measures  of  people  and  having 
corsets  made  that  fit  better  than  those  sold  at  the 
stores.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  young  man  to  go  to  the 
hotel  and  take  the  lecturer  to  the  hall,  but  the  boys  put 
up  a  job  to  have  the  hotel  clerk  send  the  young  man's 
card  to  the  room  of  the  corset  lady,  instead  of  to  the 
room  of  Mrs.  Young,  when  he  called. 
In  the  meantime  they  had  written  the  corset  lady 


THE  WRONG   LECTUBEB.  55 

that  a  young  man  who  wore  corsets  wanted  one  made 
to  measure,  and  that  he  would  call  in  the  evening. 
There  are  so  many  men  that  wear  corsets  that  the  busi 
ness-like  little  woman  did  not  think  anything  strange 
of  it,  and  when  the  card  came  to  her  door  she  told  the 
bell  boy  to  show  the  gentleman  up.  The  young  man 
went  up  to  the  room,  thinking  he  was  being  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  Brigham's  fractional  widow.  He 
shook  hands  with  the  corset  lady,  and  hoped  she  was 
feeling  well,  and  she  admitted  that  she  was,  because 
business  never  was  better  since  she  had  been  on  the 
road.  She  said  it  was  seldom  she  was  called  upon  by 
men,  in  her  line  of  business,  but  the  few  that  had  pat 
ronized  her  house  were  more  than  pleased. 

"  From  your  general  carriage  I  should  judge  you  pre 
fer  one  that  opens  at  the  side,"  said  she,  as  she  looked 
at  his  fine,  manly  frame.  Thinking  she  was  speaking 
of  the  hack  he  had  lit  the  door,  to  take  her  to  the  hall, 
he  said: 

"  Yes,  all  the  best  people  here  ride  in  those  that  open 
on  the  side."  Finally  he  said,  as  he  looked  at  his 
watch,  that  it  was  almost  time  for  her  to  commence. 
She  said  it  wouldn't  take  but  two  or  three  minutes. 

"Please  remove  your  coat  and  vest,"  said  she,  as 
she  took  up  a  tape  line,  and  looked  around  for  a  pencil. 
We  suppose  the  cold  perspiration  stood  in  great  drops 
on  the  young  man's  forehead.  He  was  as  honest  and 
square  a  man  as  ever  lived  in  Beaver  Dam,  and  never 
entertained  a  thought  of  guile,  and  it  hurt  him  deeply 
to  have  a  woman  he  had  never  met  before  act  so 
familiar,  and  he  became  weak  and  faint,  and  leaned 
against  the  mantle. 


56  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

fle  looked  at  the  "lecturer"  as  she  came  toward 
him  with  a  tape  line  in  one  hand,  a  note  book  in  the 
other,  and  a  pencil  in  her  mouth,  and  when  she  looked 
up  at  him  with  a  business  look  and  said,  "Take  off 
your  coat,"  he  turned  pale,  his  knees  trembled,  and 
with  a  choking  voice  he  said : 

"  Stand  back,  woman,  stand  back !  You  do  not  know 
the  man  you  are  dealing  with.  I  have  always  striven 
to  lead  a  different  life,  and  no  woman  can  assail  me 
with  impunity." 

The  middle-aged  corset  canvasser  stood  back  aghast. 

"What  on  earth  is  the  matter?"  said  she. 

"Matter  enough,  madam,  when  a  poor  orphan  goes 
to  escort  a  lecturer  to  the  platform,  the  forum,-  ma'am, 
and  be  met  by  an  order  to  take  off  his  coat  and  vest. 
It  is  enough  to  make  your  late  husband,  Brigham 
Young " 

"Sir-r-r!"  said  the  corset-maker,  when  he  got  to 
Brigham,  "  do  you  wish  to  insult  me  ?  Have  you  come 
here  thinking  I  am  a  she  Mormon  ?  I  will  ring  the 
bell,  sir,  and  have  you  thrown  into  the  street." 

He  told  her  to  be  calm ;  there  was  no  necessity  for 
that,  as  he  would  go  if  he  could  get  out  alive.  Finally 
they  both  became  calm,  and  he  found  out  she  was  not 
Mrs.  Young,  but  a  corset  dealer,  and  then  both  apolo 
gized,  and  he  went  down  to  the  parlor  and  found  the 
lecturer  and  introduced  himself.  Wiping  the  perspira 
tion  from  his  face,  he  asked  her  if  she  was  sure  she  was 
Mrs.  Young.  She  said  she  was  not  the  old  original, 
but  she  was  one  of  them,  and  they  started  for  the 
carriage.  As  they  rode  to  the  hall,  she  was  astonished 
to  hear  him  ask,  "  Mrs.  Young,  now,  honor  bright,  do  I 


A  WILL  OF  HIS  OWN.  57 

look  like  a  man  that  wears  corsets?"  She  said  she 
didn't  really  know,  and  after  the  lecture  she  asked  an 
old  gentleman  who  presided  at  the  meeting  what  seemed 
to  be  the  matter  with  the  young  man  who  brought  her 
to  the  hall.  He  seemed  nervous  and  ill  at  ease.  The 
old  man  said,  "  Well,  Miss  Brigham,  some  thinks  it's 
worms,  and  some  thinks  he  is  cutting  teeth,  but  I  guess 
it  is  only  his  voice  changing." 

The  corset-maker  said  she  never  had  such  a  scare  in 
all  her  life  as  she  did  when  that  young  man  told  her  to 
move  another  step  toward  him  at  the  peril  of  her  life. 


A  WILL  OF  HIS  OWN. 


ONE  of  our  best  local  preachers  preached  a  sermon 
on  children  and  the  way  to  bring  them  up,  and, 
speaking  of  the  old  idea  that  a  stubborn  child,  or  a 
child  with  a  will  of  its  own,  was  a  nuisance,  the  elder 
said :  "  I  wouldn't  give  a  d —  for  a  child  that  had  not  a 
will  of  its  own,"  or  words  to  that  effect.  It  is  but 
justice  to  say  that  the  good  man  used  the  word  "dime" 
where  the  blank  is  in  the  above  extract.  But  the 
remark  is  the  key-note  to  the  situation.  The  time  has 
been  when  a  child  with  a  will  of  its  own  has  been 
looked  upon  by  the  whole  neighborhood  as  a  terror, 
and  mothers  have  sighed  and  endured  sorrow  when 
they  have  noticed  the  spirit  shown  by  such  a  child. 
But  when  they,  in  later  years,  have  looked  around  and 
seen  that  the  most  successful  men  and  women  of  the 
land  grew  up  from  children  that  had  wills  of  their 


58  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

own,  the  sadness  and  sorrow  of  the  mother  has  given 
place  to  pride.  "  The  Sun  "  does  not  like  to  see  chil 
dren  have  wills  of  their  own  that  are  so  strong  that 
they  cannot  be  controlled  by  parents,  but  few  children 
who  have  the  right  kind  of  parents  have  such  wills. 
Take  a  child  with  a  will  of  its  own,  and  guide  that  will 
properly,  and  not  knock  the  backbone  out  of  it  with  a 
barrel  stave,  and  the  child  will  grow  up  to  be  a  success 
in  business.  Children  with  wills  of  their  own  may 
turn  out  to  be  pirates  or  highway  robbers,  but  it  will 
be  because  parents  try  to  break  that  will  by  severe 
punishment.  They  may  partially  break  it,  but  it  will 
assert  itself  sometime  in  the  wrong  way,  while  if  it 
is  guided  properly  the  will  may  be  a  mountain  of 
strength. 

The  successful  men  in  all  branches  of  business  are 
men  who  had  "wills  of  their  own"  in  youth.  They 
were  not  pet  children  who  never  said  their  souls  were 
their  own.  Such  children  become  he-milliners  or  dudes. 
The  successful  men  look  with  pride  upon  their  children 
who  have  wills  of  their  own,  because  they  know  by 
experience  that  such  a  will  is  worth  millions  in  the 
battle  of  life.  A  man  who  had  no  mind  of  his  own  as 
a  boy  may  be  good  enough  to  carry  shawls  to  a  mati 
nee,  or  baskets  to  a  picnic,  or  he  may  stand  on  a  corner 
and  chew  a  cane,  but  he  could  not  build  a  railroad 
through  a  wilderness  or  across  a  mountain,  and  rather 
than  face  a  panic  he  would  sit  down  and  cry.  He 
could  not  invent  anything,  unless  it  was  a  patent  corset 
or*  a  self-fastening  hair-pin,  while  his  brother,  who  had 
a  will  of  his  own,  would  invent  a  telephone  or  a  loco 
motive.  The  child  with  a  will  of  his  own  may  be 


OWNING   THE   EARTH.  59 

harder  to  raise,  and  he  may  cause  some  heart-aches 
and  anxiety,  but  when  that  will  which  was  so  hard 
to  handle  in  youth  gets  hold  of  a  difficult  problem  of 
business  in  later  years,  and  clinches  itself  around  the 
problem,  and  begins  to  squeeze,  it  will  never  let  up 
until  success  is  achieved.  The  stubborn  "  Be  sure  you 
are  right  and  then  go  ahead"  boys  are  in  demand,  and 
are  worth  their  weight  in  gold,  while  the  milk-and- 
water,  "  baby -mine "  fellows  have  to  be  done  up  in 
bunches  like  radishes,  and  got  rid  of  in  a  lump,  and 
half  of  them  turn  out  to  be  pithy  and  no  good.  If 
you,  good  mother,  have  a  child  with  a  will  of  its  own, 
don't  worry  about  the  child,  but  thank  God  and  bend 
the  will  by  kindness,  and  when  that  child  grows  up  and 
succeeds  where  others  fail,  write  us  a  postal  card.  All 
of  the  successful  men  in  the  country  had  wills  of  their 
own,  and  that  was  all  the  capital  they  had.  When  we 
see  a  child  with  a  will  of  its  own,  we  always  want  to 
take  it  one  side  and  tell  it  the  good  news  that  the  will 
is  more  valuable  than  a  rich  relative. 


OWNING  THE  EAETH. 

HOW  often  we  hear  men  say  "  I  am  glad  of  it," 
when  speaking  of  some  man  who  has  been  at  the 
top  of  the  heap  politically,  socially  and  financially,  and 
has  suddenly  dropped.  Once  in  a  great  while  a  man 
says,  "  I  am  sorry,"  but  that  Js  when  the  man  who  has 
fallen  was  the  same  kind  of  a  fellow  when  he  was  on 


60  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

top  that  he  was  before  he  got  there.  The  trouble  is 
that  too  many  men,  who  go  to  the  front,  get  the  idea 
that  they  own  the  earth,  and  their  old  friends  get 
down  on  them,  and  they  do  not  make  new  ones  to 
take  the  place  of  the  old  ones.  A  ward  politician  who 
becomes  a  congressman,  can  make  no  greater  mistake 
than  to  get  too  big  for  his  boots  when  he  is  elected, 
and  forget  his  friends,  and  put  on  airs.  The  boys  who 
have  made  him  what  he  is,  talk  with  each  other  about 
him,  laugh  at  his  greatness,  and  never  tell  him  what 
they  think,  but  some  day  when  he  comes  up  again 
they  slaughter  him,  and  he  drops  on  the  political  side 
walk  and  never  knows  what  hit  him,  but  he  knows 
that  he  is  hurt.  Then  he  tries  to  smile  at  his  old 
friends,  and  slap  them  on  the  shoulders,  and  explain 
himself,  but  it  is  everlastingly  too  late.  What  they 
wanted  was  to  have  him  remain  just  the  same  when  he 
was  on  top.  A  man  may  go  along,  poor,  and  be 
respected  and  have  thousands  of  friends,  and  he  may 
suddenly  have  a  fortune  left  him.  The  first  time  he 
puts  on  a  silk  undershirt  he  changes  toward  his  friends 
and  seems  to  own  the  earth.  He  goes  around  a  block 
to  avoid  meeting  a  friend  of  the  old  days,  and  he  looks 
over  them  when  he  meets  them.  They  watch  for  him 
to  drop,  and  when  he  does  go  through  his  money,  and 
gets  down  to  the  earth  again,  he  finds  that  the  other 
fellows  own  some  of  it,  he  meets  an  old  friend  that  he 
has  not  noticed  for  years,  and  says  "  Hello,  Bill,"  but 
BiU  does  not  "  hello."  Bill  has  wanted  to  "  hello,"  for 
some  time,  but  he  didn't  receive  any  encouragement, 
and  now  his  appetite  for  "  helloing  "  has  left  him.  If 
he  wants  to  "hello  Bill"  he  goes  off  and  does  it > with 


OWNING  THE   EABTH.  61 

somebody  whose  head  has  not  got  too  big  for  his  hat, 
and  the  man  who  has  been  temporarily  at  the  top  of 
the  heap  sees  that  he  has  made  a  Beaver  Dam  fool  of 
himself. 

When  a  man  has  been  climbing  a  hill  all  his  life,  and 
slipped  back  so  much  that  it  has  made  his  head  swim, 
but  finally,  by  sticking  his  toe  nails  in,  gets  to  the  top, 
he  has  a  right  to  feel  glad,  but  he  wants  to  be  con 
tented  where  he  is,  and  not  try  to  fly  high.  When  he 
gets  to  the  top  of  the  hill  he  is  in  a  more  dangerous 
place  than  he  was  while  he  was  climbing,  because  from 
where  he  stands  it  is  down  hill  in  every  direction.  Did 
you  ever  think  of  that,  boys?  Every  way  you  look, 
when  you  get  up  there,  it  is  down  hill,  and  you  have 
got  to  brace  yourself,  and  not  lose  your  head,  or  the 
first  thing  you  know  your  foot  will  slip,  and  you  will 
go  down  head  over  appetite.  If  you  have  kept  your 
head  and  your  friends,  while  you  were  at  the  top,  and 
those  who  are  still  climbing  see  that  you  are  letting 
your  foot  slip,  they  will  try  to  brace  you  and  keep  you 
up,  but  if  you  have  made  an  ass  of  yourself,  and 
thought  that  because  you  had  got  there  that  you 
owned  the  hill,  and  have  thrown  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  the  other  climbers,  and  you  start  to  go  down,  as 
Josh  Billings  has  said,  "All  creation  seems  greased  for 
the  occasion,"  and  when  you  get  to  going  nobody  will 
reach  out  to  save  you.  It  is  a  good  lesson  for  boys  as 
well  as  men  to  learn,  that  the  top  of  the  hill  is  the 
most  dangerous  place,  and  when  they  get  there  they 
will  be  the  same  careful,  sensible  persons  that  they 
were  when  they  were  sticking  their  toe  nails  in,  and 
puffing.  The  country  is  full  of  late  politicians  who 


PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 


would  give  all  they  have  got,  and  mortgage  all  they 
expect  to  have,  if  they  had  not  lost  their  heads 
they  got  to  the  top  of  the  hill. 


THE  DEADLY  HOT  POTATO. 


IT  beats  all  the  number  of  ways  there  are  to  hare 
fun  if  a  person  is  constantly  on  the  lookout.  There 
is  a  young  man  boarding  at  a  prominent  hotel  who 
probably  has  more  quiet  fun  than  anybody.  He  sees 
the  funny  side  of  everything.  You  would  hardly  think 
there  was  any  fun  to  be  extracted  from  a  hot-baked 
potato,  but  our  friend  gets  a  dollar's  worth  of  fun  out 
of  every  hot  potato  he  steals  off  the  table  at  supper 
time.  When  he  is  ready  to  leave  the  table  a  trained 
waiter  brings  the  young  man  a  hot-baked  potato,  red 
hot  right  out  of  the  oven,  and  he  goes  out  of  the 
dining-room  with  a  smile  of  pious  resignation  on  his 
face,  and  the  potato  in  his  hand.  In  two  minutes  he 
will  have  that  potato  in  the  pocket  of  some  stranger. 
The  young  man  will  stand  off  and  whistle  and  wait 
for  the  man  to  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  watch  the 
result,  and  then  look  pious  and  go  and  get  a  cigar.  A 
spell  ago  he  put  a  hot  potato  in  the  coat-tail  pocket  of 
a  clerical-looking  gentleman  who  was  talking  to  one  of 
the  local  clergymen  who  had  called  at  the  hotel,  when 
the  man  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  to  get  a  paper  he 
had  written  on  the  transmigration  of  the  souL  The 


THE  DEADLY  HOT  POTATO.  63 

man  pulled  his  hand  out  quick,  forgot  all  about  his 
soul  and  turned  his  attention  to  the  upper  leather. 
When  he  found  that  it  was  a  hot  potato  that  had  bit 
him  instead  of  a  rattle-snake,  the  color  returned  to  his 
face  and  he  seemed  resigned,  and  acted  as  though 
praying  for  strength  from  on  high  to  enable  him  to 
knock  the  everlasting  skillets  out  of  the  man  who  had 
put  it  in  his  pocket.  The  hot  potato  young  man  walked 
out  of  the  dining-room  one  evening  last  week  behind  a 
newly-wedded  couple  from  Pentwater,  Michigan. 

The  bride  had  a  blue  velvet  basque,  with  these  large 
pockets  on  behind,  where  they  put  in  handkerchiefs, 
caramels,  etc.  The  pockets  are  away  around  on  the 
other  side  of  a  person,  where  the  ownei  can't  see  what 
is  going  on,  and  the  chance  was  too  good  for  the  hot 
potato  young  man,  so  he  dropped  his  contribution  into 
the  bride's  pistol-pocket,  while  her  husband  was  pick 
ing  out  a  hat  from  the  rack,  and  the  party  went  to  the 
reception-room  and  sat  down,  the  bride  in  a  large 
stuffed  chair.  The  hot  potato  young  man  and  a  lady 
and  gentleman  friend,  who  desired  to  see  how  the 
potato  came  out,  also  seated  themselves  in  the  room. 
We  suppose,  from  her  build,  and  the  solidity  with 
which  she  sat  down,  that  the  bride  mashed  the  potato 
in  her  pocket.  You  know  how  all-fired  hot  a  baked 
potato  is  when  it  gets  broke  in  the  fracas.  The  bride 
looked  at  her  husband  as  though  she  loved  him  so  her 
back  fairly  ached ;  but  the  gaze  of  aif ection  was  soon 
changed  to  one  of  eager  expectancy.  She  moved 
uneasily  in  her  seat,  and  finally  said  to  him : 
"  Petty,  I  believe  I  am  going  to  be  sick." 
He  said  he  hoped  not,  so  soon,  and  asked  her  what 


64  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

her  symptoms  were,  and  he  drew  closer,  while  the 
spectators  tried  to  look  as  though  it  was  most  time  to 
go  to  prayer-meeting. 

"O,"  said  the  poor  bride,  as  she  put  her  hand 
around  to  the  southwest,  near  the  pocket,  and  jerked 
it  away  quick,  "  I  feel  a  strange  unrest  here.  There  is 
a  feverish  feeling,  a  burning  sensation,  as  of  a  pent-up 
volcano,  or  a  mustard  plaster,  near  the  small  of  my 
back.  Dear,  if  I  die  here  in  this  house,  you  will  take 
me  home  to  Pentwater,  won't  you,  and  not  marry 
again  ?  O,  I  am  burning  up  with  fever.  Why  did  I 
marry  ? " 

The  bridegroom  said  he  didn't  want  to  argue  the 
question,  and  told  her  they  had  better  go  to  their 
room,  and  as  she  got  up  he  placed  his  arm  gently 
around  her,  and  as  the  hot  potato  got  in  its  work  on 
his  sleeve,  he  said : 

"Egad,  darling,  you  a/re  feverish,"  and  they  went 
along  to  the  elevator  and  disappeared. 

Of  course  no  one  knows  what  happened  when  they 
got  to  the  room  and  found  the  hot  baked  potato  in  her 
pistol  pocket,  but  at  breakfast  the  next  morning  the 
bride  looked  as  though  her  back  had  got  over  aching, 
and  the  bridegroom  looked  as  though  he  had  designs 
on  the  life  of  an  innocent  colored  waiter. 

The  hot  potato  young  man  took  his  regular  potato 
to  the  theater  the  other  night,  when  the  amateurs  were 
playing  at  the  "  Winter's  Tale."  In  front  of  him  sat 
a  man  from  Wausau  who  sometimes  gets  a  little  full 
when  he  comes  to  town.  He  had  gone  to  the  theater 
thinking  the  play  was  going  to  be  something  funny, 
and  when  he  found  that  it  was  solemn,  and  they  were 


"HE  DROPPED  THE  HOT  POTATO. 


THE   DEADLY    HOT   POTATO.  67 

trying  to  saw  a  rubber  baby  off  onto  an  innocent  real 
estate  agent,  the  Wausau  man  went  to  sleep.  He  had 
his  arm  over  the  back  of  the  next  seat,  and  the  hot 
potato  young  man  thought  it  was  time  to ,  begin  to  get 
in  his  work  before  his  potato  got  cold,  so  when  all 
eyes  were  upon  the  pants  legs  of  one  of  the  villains  on 
the  stage,  which  didn't  seem  to  be  of  the  same  length, 
he  placed  the  potato  gently  into  the  open  hand  of  the 
sleeper.  You  know  how  natural  it  is  for  a  person  who 
is  half  asleep  to  grasp  tightly  anything  that  is  put  in 
his  hand.  Well,  the  "Wausau  man  crushed  the  hot 
potato  in  his  big  hand,  and  the  mealy,  steaming  mass 
worked  out  between  his  fingers,  and  he  woke  up  and 
said  one  word  out  loud,  as  though  dreaming  of  a  glori 
ous  immortality  beyond  the  grave,  as  follows :  "  Je 
sus!  "  And  then  he  shook  the  potato  out  of  his  hand 
and  began  to  look  around.  The  hot  potato  young 
man  was  looking  so  intently  and  sorrowfully  at  the 
fearful  scenes  being  enacted  on  the  stage  that  no  sus 
picion  rested  on  him,  but  a  pretty  little  fellow  sitting 
near  the  Wausau  man  laughed,  and  the  victim  leaned 
over  toward  him  and  whispered  : 

"  If  you  will  step  out  on  the  sidewalk  I  will  knock 
the  stuffing  out  of  you  in  a  holy  minute,"  but  he 
wouldn't  go  out,  so  after  the  curtain  came  down  the 
Wausau  man  went  out  to  cool  his  hand  by  taking  a 
drink,  and  he  didn't  come  back.  With  a  well  regu 
lated  hot  potato  a  man  can  have  plenty  of  fun  if  he  hag 
got  a  solemn  countenance. 


68  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 


JACOB  AND  RACHEL. 

rjlHERE  is  a  great  deal  of  argument  among  young 
and  old  people  as  to  the  propriety  of  young 
people  making  each  other's  acquaintance  without  a 
proper  introduction,  old  people  claiming  that  any 
acquaintance  made  without  an  introduction  is  improper, 
while  many  young  people  claim  that  there  are  times 
when  an  acquaintance  can  be  made  without  the  aid  of 
these  forms,  which  is  liable  to  be  a  valuable  one,  and 
lead  to  much  happiness.  But  such  things  are  looked 
upon  as  flirtations  by  many  people.  An  acquaintance 
thus  formed  is  often  looked  upon  as  productive  of  no 
good.  Young  people  cannot  be  too  careful  about  meet 
ing  strangers,  though  they  should  use  some  judgment 
and  not  give  themselves  away.  They  have  a  precedent 
for  getting  acquainted,  without  the  aid  of  outside 
friends,  in  the  case  of  Jacob  and  Rachel,  the  particu 
lars  of  which  flirtation  can  be  found  in  the  good  book. 
It  is  not  alleged  that  Jacob  was  a  masher,  like  many 
of  the  Jakes  of  the  present  day,  but,  according  to 
reports,  he  captured  Rachel  quicker  than  wink.  It 
seems  that  Jake  was  at  the  well  of  Haran,  after  water, 
and  Rachel  came  along  with  her  jug  after  some  water. 
They  had  never  met  before,  and  yet  Jacob  was  gone 
the  first  time  she  aimed  her  eyes  at  him. 

According  to  scriptural  authority,  "It  came  to  pass 
that  after  he  had  drawn  water  at  the  well  of  Haran 
for  Rachel,  Jacob  kissed  Rachel  and  lifted  up  his  voice 
and  wept."  What  he  wept  for  is  not  stated,  but  the  best 


JACOB   AND   KACHEL,  69 

of  'em  are  apt  to  be  overcome  with  emotion  in  trying 
times.  The  action  of  Jacob  toward  a  total  stranger, 
in  these  days,  would  subject  him  and  her  to  comment. 
Suppose,  at  one  of  our  summer  resorts,  a  Eachel  should 
go  down  to  the  spring  for  a  dose  of  liquid  liver  cure, 
and  a  young  fellow  should  draw  the  water  for  her,  and 
hand  it  to  her,  and  then  kiss  her,  and  begin  to  cry. 
They  would  call  a  policeman,  and  the  next  day,  or  the 
day  after,  when  the  policeman  got  around,  they  would 
have  the  crying  kisser  fired  out  of  the  grounds,  and 
Rachel's  mother  would  take  her  up  to  the  hotel  and 
take  her  across  her  knee  and  box  her  ears  soundly. 
Probably  that  was  the  way  they  did  business  in  olden 
times,  but  it  would  be  a  laughable  thing  to  see  now 
days.  Suppose  a  young  Jacob  and  Rachel,  strangers 
to  each  other,  living  in  adjoining  houses  in  Chicago, 
should  both  take  tin  dippers  and  go  out  to  the  milk 
wagon  for  the  supply  of  alleged  milk  for  their  respect 
ive  families,  and  Jacob  should  take  Rachel's  dipper  and 
have  it  whitewashed  inside  with  the  stuff  the  milkman 
exchanges  for  tickets,  and  then  the  Jacob  should  kiss 
the  Rachel  and  lift  up  his  voice  and  weep.  The  milkman 
would  faint  away  and  fall  off  the  seat,  Rachel  would 
swat  Jacob  over  the  head  with  the  dipper  of  fresco 
material,  people  would  stop  on  the  streets  to  see  the 
row,  and  a  policeman  would  come  along  and  pull  both 
Jacob  and  Rachel  for  disorderly  conduct,  and  they 
would  be  sentenced  to  thirty  days  in  the  house  of  cor 
rection.  This  shows  what  a  difference  there  is  in  the 
practices  of  the  days  of  Jacob  and  Rachel,  and  now. 

If  a.  latter-day  Jacob  wanted  to  get  acquainted  with 
a  Racnel,  h<e  wouldn't  stand  around  a  well  waiting  for 


70  PBOK'S  BOSS  BOGK- 

her  to  come  after  a  jug  of  water ;  neither  would  he 
stand  at  the  corner  grocery  waiting  for  her  to  come 
after  two  cents'  worth  of  yeast,  and  kiss  her  and  weep. 
He  would  raise  his  pancake  hat  to  her  and  say,  "  Pleas 
ant  day  for  a  stwoll,  you  know,  by  Jove";  and  if  she 
wanted  to  "  stwoll,"  she  would  say,  "  Well,  I  should 
assimilate,"  and  that  would  settle  it ;  but  if  she  didn't 
want  any  foolishness,  she  would  tell  him  to  go  and 
walk  a  match  with  himself.  There  are  various  theories 
as  to  the  cause  of  Jacob's  weeping  on  that  occasion. 
"Whitelaw  Keid,  of  New  York,  one  of  the  greatest 
commentators,  gives  it  as  his  opinion  that  Rachel  had 
been  eating  onions,  and  that  when  Jake  kissed  her  and 
got  a  sniff  of  the  odor,  he  had  to  cry.  That  looks 
reasonable,  but  it  is  more  probable  that  Rachel  bit 
him.  Suppose  Rachel  had  not  been  kissed  for  several 
months,  and  wanted  to  be  kissed  real  bad.  She  was  a 
warm-hearted,  splendid  girl,  and  when  Jake  dropped 
his  jug  and  took  her  in  his  arms,  there  behind  the  well- 
curb,  where  nobody  could  see  them,  and  was  about 
imprinting  the  kiss  on  her  mouth,  she  looked  up  into 
his  eyes  and  bit  him.  She  couldn't  help  it.  Rachel 
should  nL>t  be  blamed  for  causing  Jacob  to  cry,  and 
evidently  he  did  not  blame  her,  because  he  married 
her.  Very  likely  that  one  kiss  that  caused  him  to  weep 
was  what  settled  the  business  with  Jake.  Rachel  did 
very  wrong,  no  doubt,  in  allowing  the  strange  man  to 
kiss  her  before  she  had  learned  his  name,  or  what  house 
he  traveled  for;  but  if  she  needed  a  kiss  at  that 
moment,  and  promised  herself  that  it  should  not  count, 
and  thai  it  should  not  jcoui  again,  considering  hew  it 
turned  oat3  and  how  happy  the}'  were  as  long  as  they 


THE    DISCREET    CONDUCTOR.  71 

Jved,  we  should  noty  at  this  late  day,  lay  it  up  against 
RacheL 

However,  girls  of  to-day  should  be  introduced  to 
men,  and  know  what  their  intentions  are,  and  learn 
something  of  their  standing  in  society,  before  they  give 
them  a  kiss  and  cause  them  to  weep.  Such  things  have 
the  appearance  of  boldness,  and  are  not  right. 


THE  DISCREET  CONDUCTOR. 

"  T  UNDERSTAND  you  have  made  an  application 

JL  to  be  placed  in  charge  of  a  train  on  another 
division  of  the  road,"  said  a  newspaper  man  to  Con 
ductor  Rumsey,  the  other  evening.  "  The  boys  say  it 
is  too  lively  for  you  up  around  Waupun.  How  is  it  2 " 

;<No,  sir,"  says  Rumsey,  with  a  mad  look  on  his 
face ;"  it  is  all  a  lie.  I  shall  stay  on  that  road  as  long 
as  they  want  me,  and  you  fellows  want  to  have  your 
passes  with  you  when  you  strike  my  train,  or  you  have 
to  put  up.  The  boys  all  havo  to  come  down  and  see 
me  with  passes  or  tickets  or  money,  and  don't  you 
make  no  mistake.  You  want  your  thick-soled  shoes 
on,  or  you  get  corns." 

"  But  what  was  it  about  some  fellow  chasing  you  out 
of  the  coach  into  the  baggage-car,  and  your  locking 
the  door  and  not  coming  out  till  the  man  got  off? — any 
truth  in  that  ?"  asked  the  newspaper  man,  as  he  took  a 
dgar  out  of  Rumsey's  vest  pocket  and  lit  it. 

ttWells  you  hain't  got  no  gall,  either.  What  you 
want  is  to  go  to  a  slaughter-house  somewhere  and  get 


72  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

some  gall3"  and  he  looked  down  at  his  empty  cigz* 
pocket.  "  Naw,  there  didn't  anybody  scare  me.  The 
boys  tell  everything  on  me,  because  I  am  good-natured, 
and  don't  kick.  It  is  because  I  am  not  picking  a  fight 
all  the  time.  I  am  no  fighter,  and  I  had  rather  stop  a 
train  and  build  a  track  around  a  man  that  wants  to 
fight  than  to  whip  him.  Some  of  these  sheriffs  and 
constables  that  travel  around  after  prisoners,  or  take 
them  to  Waupun,  think  a  conductor  is  a  regular  deputy 
sheriff.  I  am  no  Pinkerton.  The  other  day  a  big, 
husky  fellow  opened  his  coat  and  showed  a  star  on  his 
vest  as  big  as  the  ones  these  Milwaukee  aldermen  wear, 
and  said  to  me :  *  I  may  want  you  to  help  me  up  the 
road  here  a  piece.  I  expect  a  couple  of  horse-thieves 
to  get  on,  and  they  may  be  too  much  for  me.'  I  told 
him  I  hadn't  lost  any  horse-thief,  and  when  the  fuss 
commenced  he  could  find  me  turning  a  back  summer 
sault  off  the  hind  end  of  the  train.  S'pose  I  am  going 
to  pull  sand-baggers  and  horse-thieves  for  eighty  dol 
lars  a  month,  and  have  bullets  shot  into  my  stomach  ? 
Not  much.  A  sheriff  from  Nebraska  wanted  me  to  lay 
off  one  day,  and  go  to  Kandolph  and  help  him  arrest 
Polk  Wells  and  his  gang,  two  years  ago.  You  remem 
ber  how  everybody  got  shot  full  of  holes  that  time. 
Revolvers  just  laid  right  down  on  the  floor  and  went 
off  themselves.  Not  any  Polk  Wells  business  for  me. 
Some  of  these  sheriffs  that  take  prisoners  to  Waupun 
think  a  conductor  is  going  to  sit  right  down  and  watch 
prisoners  all  the  way.  A  fellow  wanted  me  to  hold  a 
big  prize-fighter  he  was  taking  to  Waupun,  with  hand 
cuffs  on,  while  he  went  out  at  Horicon  and  got  a  drink. 
I  told  him  I  guessed  not  much,  Mary  Ann,  and  he  saiC 


THJt  DISCREET  CONDUCTOR,  73 

I  didn't  have  any  sand.  Well,  I  have  got  just  enough 
to  run  my  business  and  collect  my  fares,  and  if  I  want 
any  sand-bagging  I  will  quit  railroading  and  run  for 
constable.  Why,  they  wanted  me  to  stop  a  train  once 
and  go  with  them  to  a  barn  about  a  mile  away  from 
the  track  and  hunt  for  some  prisoners  that  escaped 
from  the  penitentiary.  Did  I  go?  Well,  I  haven't 
got  my  memorandum  with  me,  but  if  I  recollect  right, 
I  didn't  go.  Take  me  for  a  detective? " 

"Then  you  rather  incline  to  a  quiet  life,  and  had 
rather  get  along  without  any  fuss,"  said  the  newspaper 
man,  as  he  asked  Kumsey  for  a  match  to  light  the 
cigar. 

«  Match !  Well,  I  guess  I  better  light  it  for  you,  and 
pay  you  for  smoking  it.  Oh,  wait  till  I  catch  you  on 
my  train  without  your  pass,  and  I  will  make  up  for 
cigars  and  matches,  lifting  you  off  the  platform  with 
leather.  Yes,  sir,  I  believe  the  ugliest  man  that  ever 
got  on  a  train  can  be  made  peaceable  by  kindness.  I 
had  a  man  on  my  train  one  night  going  up,  that 
always  gets  drunk  on  purpose  for  a  row,  He  has 
cleaned  out  lots  of  trains,  and  I  see  he  was  in  for  a 
row.  He  looked  as  though  he  had  a  hot  box  when  he 
saw  me  come  in  the  door,  and  grated  his  teeth.  He 
was  full,  boiling  over,  and  expected  to  fight  to  the 
next  station,  where  he  lived,  and  get  off  without 
paying.  I  went  up  to  him  and  sat  down  beside  him, 
and  askaed  him  if  he  had  had  a  good  time  to-day,  and 
then  I  pulled  out  some  picture  cards  that  I  got  in  a 
store  here  in  Milwaukee,  and  I  said,  'Here,  Pat,  take 
these  pictures  to  your  little  girl  at  home,  and  tell  her,  as 
she  meets  you  at  the  door,  and  throws  her  arms  around 


74 

your  neck,  and  kisses  you,  and  says  she  is  glad  you 
come  home  sober,  and  that  she  loves  you,  and  that  you 
are  the  dearest  papa  in  the  world,  tell  her  that  old 
Kumsey  sent  them  to  her,  with  a  kiss.'  "Well,  you 
wouldn't  believe  it,  but  before  I  got  half  through 
talking  about  his  little  girl,  the  big  tears  came  to  his 
eyes,  and  rolled  down  his  red  face,  and  he  took  them, 
and  thanked  me  in  a  choking  voice,  and  said,  as  he 
pulled  out  a  five  dollar  bill,  '  Take  my  fare  out  of  this, 
Eumsey,  and  God  bless  you.'  I'll  bet  that  rough 
fellow's  heart  was  touched,  because  when  he  got  off 
at  the  next  station  he  was  sober,  and  was  wiping  his 
eyes  on  his  coat  sleeve,  and  he  pointed  right  straight 
for  home.  Oh,  a  man  can  get  in  his  work  on  a  rail 
road  train,  and  never  kill  a  man;  if  he  wants  to.  I 
ought  to  have  been  a  sister  of  charity  instead  of  a  con 
ductor,  I  know  that,  but  now  I  am  into  it  I  am  going 
to  stick." 


THE  GOYEENMEISTT  DETECTIVR 

NOT  long  since  the  editor  of  "The  Sun"  spent  an 
evening  with  a  friend  who  is  a  "government 
detective,"  a  man  in  the  employ  of  the  Post-Office 
Department,  and  who  travels  all  over  the  West  at 
Government  expense,  and  who  would  seem  to  have  an 
enviable  position — one  that  hundreds  of  men  would  be 
glad  to  secure.  After  talking  for  an  hour  on  the  inci 
dents  of  his  business,  we  asked  him  how  he  liked  it. 
He  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  the  wall  opposite 


THE  GOVERNMENT   DETIilCTIYB.  75 

where  he  sat,  choked  up  a  little  as  some  recollection 
came  to  him,  then  with  a  tear  in  his  eye  he  said: 
"Well,  George,  there  are  some  things  about  it  that 
are  pleasant,  but  there  are  some  that  are  enough  to 
break  a  man's  heart.  If  we  could  shadow  train-rob 
bers  entirely — men  who  have  no  friends,  no  home  asso 
ciations — there  would  be  a  certain  romance  about  it 
that  could  be  enjoyed.  But  suppose  you  have  a  letter 
containing  money  stolen  from  the  mails.  You  report 
it  to  the  postmaster,  and  a  detective  is  pttt  on.  He 
finds  where  the  letter  was  probably  lost,  and  has  his 
suspicion  of  a,  certain  postmaster  or  route  agent,  and 
that  man  is  shadowed.  Decoy  letters  are  sent,  and  the 
poor  fellow  takes  one  that  has  money  in  it — money 
that  is  marked.  Then  we  have  to  go  for  him.  We 
have  the  evidence  before  he  is  arrested,  and  his  convic 
tion  is  dead  sure,  and  very  likely  he  breaks  down,  and 
confesses  the  whole  thing.  The  heart-breaking  part 
of  the  business  is  going  into  a  quiet  home  and  taking 
the  husband  and  father  and  tearing  him  from  the  wife 
and  children  who  do  not  believe  that  he  is  guilty, 
taking  him  away  from  them,  knowing  that  he  is 
doomed  to  a  felon's  cell,  and  that  he  is  disgraced  for 
ever.  To  have  the  wife  of  a  man  who  has  just  com 
menced  stealing,  beg  and  pray  with  you  to  let  her 
husband  go,  and  have  her  hold  up  her  little  baby  and 
ask  you,  for  the  baby's  sake,  to  release  the  father,  and 
to  feel  little  children  pulling  at  the  skirts  of  your  coat, 
crying  and  pleading,  is  enough  to  make  a  man  who 
has  got  children  of  his  own  go  out  and  club  himself' 
But  those  who  lose  money  must  be  protected,  and  a 
man  cannot  give  up  to  his  feelings,  though  many  times 


76  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

I  have  felt  like  paying  the  money  out  of  my  own 
pocket,  rather  than  arrest  a  man. 

One  of  the  saddest  things  I  ever  did  was  to  take  a 
boy  who  was  clerk  in  a  post-office,  at  night,  around  his 
father's  house,  to  the  barn,  where  he  had  concealed  a 
lot  of  letters  that  he  had  rifled.  As  we  passed  the 
house  the  father  and  mother  of  the  boy,  who  knew 
nothing  of  the  robbery,  were  sitting  by  the  fire-light 
singing  some  good  old  Methodist  hymns,  and  we  could 
hear  them  as  we  dug  under  the  hay  in  the  barn  for  the 
letters,  with  the  boy  showing  us  where  they  were. 
Then  we  had  to  go  in  the  house  and  break  the  news 
to  the  old  father  and  mother.  As  we  walked  toward 
the  house  the  voice  of  the  father  was  lifted  up  in 
prayer,  and  we  stood  on  the  steps  with  uncovered 
heads,  waiting  for  him  to  finish  the  prayer,  and  it  was 
the  saddest  scene  I  ever  witnessed.  I  had  the  thieving 
boy,  or  young  man,  by  the  wrist,  and  as  the  father 
asked  God  to  watch  over  their  only  child,  and  keep 
mm  from  temptation,  and  deliver  him  from  evil,  the 
boy  trembled  all  over,  and  broke  down  in  a  flood  of 
tears,  and  I  was  not  much  more  composed  than  he  was. 
I  tried  to  think  of  some  way  to  get  out  of  going  in 
there,  but  the  boy  had  papers  in  his  room  that  we 
must  have,  and  there  was  no  other  way.  It  is  said 
that  government  officials  seldom  die,  and  never  resign, 
but  I  swear  to  you  I  was  willing  to  die  or  resign,  almost 
at  that  moment,  when  the  old  gentleman  got  up  from 
his  knees,  after  the  evening  prayer,  and  went  over  to 
his  dear  old  wife  and  reverently  kissed  her,  the  mother 
of  my  prisoner,  on  the  forehead,  and  then  began  to 
sing, i  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee.'  I  thought  of  my 


JOINING    A    LODGE,  77 

mother,  and  of  my  father,  and  of  my  children,  and  if 
the  boy  had  skipped  out  I  don't  know  whether  I  would 
have  had  strength  to  catch  him  or  not,  but  he  never 
could  have  escaped.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  scene 
in  that  house.  It  haunts  me  like  a  nightmare,  and  I 
never  see  a  good  old  father  or  mother,  without  won 
dering  if  they  have  not  got  a  boy  that  is  going  wrong. 
Well,  George,  whatever  you  do,  don't  be  a  govern 
ment  detective,"  and  the  officer  got  up  and  walked 
away  with  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes. 

If  every  boy  in  the  land  who  has  begun  to  develop 
symptoms  of  speed,  and  who  is  taking  the  first  steps 
toward  becoming  a  thief,  could  have  that  picture  pre 
sented  to  him  as  the  detective  presented  it,  and  had 
the  boy  any  heart  left  in  him,  or  any  sense,  he  would 
think  of  the  old  folks,  or  somebody  who  will  be  heart 
broken  at  his  fall,  and  change  his  course  so  quick  it 
would  make  him  dizzy.  Don't  confound  this  article 
with  anything  funny,  because  it  is  far  from  it. 


JOINING  A  LODGE, 

A  WOMAN  who  has  been  married  four  weeks  to  a 
clerk  in  an  agricultural  implement  agency  in  a 
country  town,  writes  to  know  what  "  The  Sun  "  thinks 
about  her  husband's  joining  a  Masonic  or  Odd  Fellows' 
lodge.  She  says  they  have  talked  it  over  themselves, 
and  he  is  twenty-one  years  old,  gets  fourteen  dollars  a 
week,  and  they  are  boarding  with  her  aunt,  and  they 
have  agreed  to  leave  it  to  "  The  Sun,"  This  paper 


78  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

does  not  wish  to  encourage  or  discourage  any  young 
man  from  joining  any  order  that  he  feels  it  his  duty 
to  join ;  but  the  indecision  of  this  young  married  man 
is  the  best  evidence  in  the  world  that  the  time  has  not 
arrived  for  him  to  join  a  lodge.  Lodges  are  not  made 
any  more  powerful  by  the  addition  of  young  fellows 
who  have  only  been  married  four  weeks,  and  who  are 
boarding  with  their  wives'  aunts, 

A  man  can  join  a  lodge  when  he  is  twenty-one  years 
old,  but  lodges  are  not  searching  the  birth  records  to 
see  when  a  man  arrives  at  that  age,  in  order  to  get 
him  to  join.  When  a  man  becomes  of  age,  and  gets 
married,  he  has  other  duties  to  perform  the  first  year, 
which  are  more  important  than  joining  a  lodge.  Sev 
eral  things  are  liable  to  occur  that  will  make  the  four 
teen  dollar  a  week  look  tired  without  joining  a  lodge. 
The  girl  that  the  young  man  has  married  is  liable  to 
want  something  besides  day  board.  She  may  want  a 
dress  or  two,  or  a  hat,  and  a  time  may  come — at  least 
we  have  known  it  to  come  in  a  great  many  families — 
when  the  bride  is  not  as  well  as  could  be  expected, 
and  the  fourteen-dollars-a-week  bridegroom  has  to  pay 
a  doctor.  She  is  the  only  bride  he  ever  had,  and  she  is 
the  dearest  bride  on  earth  to  him,  and  the  best  doctor 
in  town  is  none  too  good,  and  some  of  the  best  doctors 
knock  a  serious  hole  in  fourteen  dollars  a  week.  So  it 
is  not  best  to  hurry  about  joining  a  lodge.  Any  well 
regulated  lodge  will  wait  till  you  get  the  doctor's  bil 
paid.  Then  the  young  bridegroom  should  begin  to 
think  about  the  time  when  he  does  not  want  to  board 
with  his  wife's  aunt,  or  anybody  else,  and  he  has  got 
to  furnish  a  house  out  of  that  fourteen  dollars  a  week, 


JOINING   A   LODGE.  79 

It  will  take  two  weeks  of  that  pay  to  buy  a  cook-stov3, 
to  say  nothing  about  things  to  cook,  and  one  week's 
pay  for  dining-room  table  and  chairs,  and  several 
weeks'  pay -for  a  bed-room  set.  But  it  is  not  right  to 
discourage  young  people  by  telling  of  the  things  they 
need  a  great  deal  more  than  they  do  a  membership  in 
a  lodge.  A  baby  wagon  can  be  bought  for  about 
what  it  would  cost  to  join  a  lodge,  and  a  young  couple 
always  want  the  best  baby  wagon  that  can  be  bought, 
the  first  time  they  buy  one.  Of  course,  the  young 
parent  might  get  trusted  for  the  baby  wagon,  but  it  is 
awful  hard  to  pay  for  it  after  the  baby  has  got  so  it 
can  walk,  and  the  baby  wagon  is  stored  away  in  a 
pigeon-hole  in  the  attic  for  future  reference,  and  the 
parent  is  almost  ashamed  to  bring  a  baby  wagon  out 
for  a  second  edition  before  it  is  paid  for. 

So  it  can  be  readily  seen  that  joining  a  lodge  is  the 
last  thing  to  be  thought  of,  until  the  candidate  has  all 
these  necessaries  of  life  paid  for  and  is  not  cramped  for 
money.  The  trouble  with  many  young  men  who  join 
lodges  is  that  they  want  to  take  all  the  degrees  in 
sight  before  they  have  a  second  shirt  to  their  backs,  or 
their  wives  have  much  more  clothes  than  they  were 
married  in.  They  see  men  who  have  taken  degrees 
above  them,  and  they  want  to  get  there,  and  it  takes 
money.  After  a  man  has  got  a  home  to  shelter  him 
and  his  wife  and  little  ones,  and  he  feels  comparatively 
at  ease  financially,  and  his  children  are  not  barefooted, 
and  their  pants  out  at  the  knees,  and  vice  versa,  "  The 
Sun  "  would  not  discourage  such  a  person  from  joining 
a  lodge,  if  he  felt  like  it ;  and  after  he  joins,  if  he  can 
afford  it,  he  is  at  liberty  to  take  a  thousand  degrees, 


80  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

but  as  long  as  he  owes  every  man  that  will  trust  him, 
and  hasn't  got  credit  enough  to  buy  a  sack  of  flour, 
and  his  family  is  pinched  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  if 
he  yearns  for  expensive  degrees  they  ought  to  be 
driven  into  him  with  a  club.  The  young  wife  who 
writes  to  "The  Sun"  for  advice  as  to  her  husband's 
joining  a  few  lodges  can  gather  from  these  few  casual 
remarks  that  it  is  deemed  wise  to  postpone  the  goat 
cavalry  business  till  next  year. 


ELECTRICITY  THE  WORST  WAY. 


GENTLEMEN  who  were  walking  on  Wisconsin 
street  on  Monday  were  surprised  to  see  two  nice 
old  gentlemen  meet  and  glare  at  each  other,  and  to  see 
one  of  them  shake  his  cane  at  the  other,  and  hear  the 
other  say,  "  Go  on,  you  old  catamaran."  They  turned 
and  looked  at  each  other,  and  seemed  to  fairly  grate 
their  false  teeth;  but  they  passed  on  without  a  col 
lision,  though  both  of  them  looked  scratched,  as  though 
they  had  been  in  a  clawing  match.  The  fact  that  for 
twenty  years  the  two  old  men  have  been  firm  friends 
caused  their  acquaintances  to  wonder  what  had  come 
between  them.  Presently  we  met  the  son  of  one  of 
them,  and  asked  him  confidentially  what  had  happened 
to  cause  them  to  dislike  each  other  so.  At  first  he  said 
he  did  not  desire  to  say  anything,  as  it  couldn't  do  any 
good,  and  he  wouldn't  have  it  get  into  the  papers  for 
anything.  We  told  him  that  if  there  was  anything  he 
desired  to  keep  out  of  the  papers,  there  was  no  person 


ELECTRICITY   THE   WORST   WAT.  81 

that  he  could  tell  it  to  who  would  be  more  careful  to 
see  that  it  did  not  appear  in  the  wicked  dailies  than  we 
would.  He  looked  at  us  with  an  expression  of  confi. 
dence  and  trust,  and  said : 

"  Well,  it  is  all  on  account  of  this  electricity  craze. 
You  see,  the  old  gentlemen  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
meeting  at  my  house,  two  or  three  nights  a  week,  to 
play  whist,  for  years,  and  lately,  since  they  can't  see  so 
well  as  they  used  to,  they  have  talked  and  smoked  more 
than  they  have  played  cards.  Since  the  telephone  and 
electric  light  have  been  in  use,  those  inventions  have 
been  the  subject  of  conversation  between  the  old  men, 
until  I  have  got  so  sick  of  electricity  that  I  can't  look 
at  a  telephone  without  having  cramps.  They  are  full 
of  electricity,  and  are  experimenting  on  everything. 
Why,  last  summer  they  run  a  fish-line,  with  baking- 
powder  cans  at  each  end,  from  my  house  to  the  other 
old  man's  son's  house,  and  they  would  talk  to  each 
other,  and  yell  until  they  were  hoarse.  I  broke  that  up 
by  taking  father's  place  at  the  baking-powder  can, 
when  he  went  down-stairs  after  his  tobacco-box,  and  I 
called  his  old  friend  a  bald-headed  old  cunderango,  who 
hadn't  teeth  enough  to  eat  liver,  and  who  was  so  old 
and  childish  that  he  had  to  be  put  to  bed  by  the  serv 
ants.  I  told  him  he  was  a  poor  old  infant,  and  ought 
to  be  fed  on  a  bottle.  When  father  got  back  from 
down-stairs,  the  other  old  man  had  cut  the  fish-line, 
and  he  wouldn't  speak  to  father  for  a  month.  Oh, 
they  have  tried  all  kinds  of  electric  experiments,  and 
I  wouldn't  be  surprised  to  see  them  all  blown  up  some 
day.  They  learned,  not  long  ago,  that  a  person  could 
go  skuffing  around  on  a  carpet  and  become  so  charged 
6 


82 

with  electricity  that  by  touching  a  gas-burner  with  the 
finger  the  gas  would  be  lit,  and  for  two  weeks  they 
were  wearing  out  the  carpet  in  my  sitting-room,  and 
they  burned  more  gas  trying  the  experiment  than  tlie 
family  would  burn  in  a  month.  But  we  didn't  care,  as 
long  as  it  was  fun  for  the  old  fellows,  and  by  the  way 
they  laughed  and  slapped  each  other  on  the  shoulders, 
at  the  success  of  their  experiments,  and  puffed  and 
bio  wed  from  their  exercise,  I  know  they  enjoyed  it. 

"  Well,  the  other  day  I  told  father  that  one  of  the 
finest  experiments  in  electricity  was  obtained  by  taking 
a  cat  and  stroking  its  back  until  the  sparks  would  fly 
from  the  hair,  and  then  hold  the  cat's  tail  up  to  the  gas 
burner  and  light  the  gas.  The  old  man  was  so  taken 
with  the  idea  that  he  sent  for  his  old  friend  to  come 
over  that  night,  as  he  had  got  a  new  experiment.  The 
old  fellow  came  over,  and  father  got  the  old  family  cat 
on  his  lap  and  began  to  stroke  its  back,  and  explain  to 
his  friend  how  he  was  going  to  light  the  gas.  He  said 
he  believed  cats  could  be  utilized  to  make  electricity 
enough  to  light  a  house,  and  he  was  going  to  apply 
for  a  patent.  They  talked  and  stroked  the  cat  until 
Thomas  quit  purring  and  began  to  act  as  though  he 
had  worms.  I  suppose  a  cat  has  feelings  as  well  as  a 
human  being,  and  they  must  feel  the  electricity  that  is 
generated  as  much  as  a  man  or  a  woman.  They  thought 
the  cat  was  pretty  near  charged,  and  father  got  up  on 
a  chair  to  turn  on  the  gas,  at  the  burner,  while  the  other 
old  man  held  the  cat,  and  handed  the  animal  up  to 
him.  Of  all  the  rows  1  ever  heard,  that  beat  anything. 
I  was  in  the  bath-room,  taking  a  bath,  and  I  heard  the 
almighties!  yelling  and  spitting,  and  swearing  and 


EXPERIMKM  IN  ELECTRICITY. 


ELECTKIOITY    THE    WOBST    WAY.  85 

clawing,  and  thinking  the  house  was  on  fire  I  took  a 
wet  towel  and  went  down  in  the  sitting  room.  The 
two  old  men  were  on  the  floor,  clawing  each  other, 
and  the  cat  was  under  a  sofa  just  more  than  '  purmeow- 
ing.'  I  couldn't  get  any  clear  idea  of  how  it  hap 
pened,  as  both  of  them  told  a  different  story. 

"After  I  had  separated  them  and  got  my  clothes  on, 
and  they  had  washed  the  blood  off  their  faces,  and 
drove  the  cat  out  of  doors,  I  gathered  from  their  con 
versation  that  the  man  handed  the  cat  up  to  father,  on 
the  chair,  by  the  legs,  and  that  father  took  hold  of  the 
hind  legs  of  the  cat,  expecting  that  the  old  man  assist 
ing  him  would  hold  on  to  the  fore  legs  of  the  cat. 
When  the  tail  touched  the  gas-burner,  the  cat  got 
cross,  and  began  to  scratch  gravel,  and  probably  she 
got  her  hair  singed  on  the  burner  they  were  lighting, 
or  another  that  was  lighted,  and  the  cat  more  than 
clawed  and  squawled.  Father  says  she  dug  all  her  toe 
nails  into  his  shirt  bosom,  and  walked  down  him,  and 
scratched  him  everywhere,  and  then  jumped  on  the 
other  man  ;  but  he  says  father  throwed  the  cat  on  him. 
Anyway,  no  one  cat  ever  scratched  two  persons  in 
more  places  than  our  old  cat  did  father  and  his  friend^ 
and  they  accused  each  other  of  fraud  and  chicanery, 
and  each  thought  the  other  put  up  the  job  on  him,  and 
they  got  to  pulling  hair,  and  chaos  was  what  was  the 
matter  when  I  went  down.  The  cat  came  near  ruining 
one  of  father's  eyes,  and  the  other  old  man  finished  it 
up  by  hitting  him  wi*>h  a  chair-leg,  and  when  they 
separated  it  was  with  bad  blood,  and  I  don't  know  as 
they  will  ever  get  together  again,  though  I  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  they  started  out  together  to  exterminate 


86  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

all  the  cats  in  the  world.  You  couldn't  expect  a  cat  to 
stand  that  treatment  and  not  get  its  back  up.  The 
animal  was  no  doubt  full  of  electricity,  and  when  its 
tail  reached  up  to  the  gas-burner,  it  became  nervous. 
If  the  old  fellows  don't  get  into  a  fight  on  the  street,  I 
shall  be  glad,  but  please  don't  let  this  go  any  further 
as  they  would  be  ashamed  to  see  it  in  print r 


THE  CORN  DENTIST  AND  PLUMBER 


ONE  of  those  mistakes  that  are  liable  to  occur  JQ 
the  best  regulated  families  made  quite  a  laugh  in 
a  West  side  residence  a  few  days  ago.  The  lady  of 
the  house  had  been  grumbling  about  a  corn  on  her  foot 
for  months,  and  her  husband  had  tried  in  vain  to  get 
her  to  consent  to  have  a  regularly-ordained  "corn 
dentist"  come  up  and  remove  it,  but  she  was  afraid  it 
would  hurt,  and  she  was  nervous  about  having  a  horrid 
man  touch  her  bare  foot,  and  she  suffered  along  until 
Tuesday,  when  in  a  moment  of  agony  she  told  the  old 
man  to  send  up  his  corn  dentist  as  quick  as  he  had  a 
mind  to.  He  went  down  to  his  office  and  ordered  the 
corn  man  to  go  up.  He  had  already  ordered  a  plumber 
to  go  to  the  house  and  mend  some  gas-fixtures  that  had 
sprung  a  leak,  and  the  plumber  got  there  first.  The 
lady  gave  orders  that  if  a  man  called  with  some  corn 
tools,  to  send  him  up  to  her  room.  The  plumber  rung 
the  bell,  and  on  being  asked  where  the  work  was  to  be 
done,  the  girl  told  him  to  go  up  to  the  lady's  room,  and 
the  man  went  up.  He  had  a  roll  of  cloth  with  tools 


THE   CORN   DENTIST  AND   PLTJMBEB.  87 

in  it,  and  as  he  put  it  down  on  the  floor  to  unroll  the 
tools,  the  lady  took  off  her  slipper,  and  removed  her 
stocking,  and  placed  her  foot  on  a  hassock.  She  looked 
at  the  plumber's  tools  on  the  floor,  and  almost  fainted. 
There  was  a  big  pair  of  pincers,  and  two  files,  and  a  lot 
of  iron  things  that  looked  big  enough  to  remove  the 
corns  from  an  elephant.  „  The  man  was  sorting  out  the 
tools,  and  didn't  notice  the  woman's  fright,  until  she 
asked : 

"  Is  this  going  to  hurt  much  ?  If  it  is  I  had  rather 
suffer  the  annoyance." 

"  O,  no,"  said  the  man  looking  up  at  the  gas  bracket 
by  the  window,  which  had  a  rag  wound  around  the 
joint  which  leaked.  "  I  can  screw  the  cap  onto  the 
joint,  so  the  gas  cannot  escape,"  and  seeing  the  woman's 
bare  foot  so  near  him  he  opened  his  eyes  in  wonder, 
and  blushed  like  a  girl.  She  looked  at  him  and  won 
dered  why  he  did  not  go  to  work  on  her  foot.  He 
was  a  great,  big,  muscular  fellow,  and  he  looked  as 
little  like  the  way  she  supposed  a  corn  doctor  would 
look  as  possible.  Taking  up  a  big  pair  of  pinchers, 
and  taking  a  match,  to  light  a  small  candle  which  he 
carried,  to  test  leaky  gas  fixtures,  he  said : 

"  Where  does  it  seem  to  be  the  worst  ? " 

-:  There,"  said  the  little  woman,  bending  over  and 
facing  her  finger  on  the  next  to  the  little  toe.  "  Right 
Between  those  two  toes.  It  is  a  soft  corn,  and  some^ 
times  it  makes  me  wild.  Now,  do  be  careful,  won't 
you,"  as  the  man  dropped  his  pinchers  and  stood  back 
as  though  he  had  been  struck  by  lightning.  Then  he 
laughed  out  loud,  and  said: 

"  Madame,  I  have  been  in  the    plumbing  business 


88  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

twenty-two  years,  but  this  is  the  first  time  I  was  ever 
called  upon  to  repair  a  broken  joint  in  a  woman's  toe- 
Excuse  me"  and  he  began  to  roll  up  his  tools. 

"  Heavens  and  earth ! "  said  the  woman,  as  she  tried 
to  put  on  her  stocking  wrong  end  first,  and  blushing 
BO  she  looked  as  pretty  as  though  she  never  had  a  corn, 
"  I  thought  you  were  a  corn  doctor.  There  is  the  gas 
fixture  you  are  to  putty  up,"  and  she  went  out  of  the 
room  in  her  stocking  feet  to  blow  up  the  girl  for 
sending  a  plumber  to  plumb  a  corn.  The  corn  doctor 
arrived  soon,  and  did  his  work,  and  when  he  and  the 
plumber  went  out  together  they  were  having  a  great 
laugh  as  they  turned  the  corner,  When  she  tells  her 
husband  to  send  up  a  man  to  do  any  work  about  the 
house  now,  she  stipulates  that  he  shall  not  send  a 
plumber,  whatever  he  does. 


AN  AEMY  ON  A  STRIKE. 

THE  story  of  how  a  war  was  almost  averted  by  a 
strike  on  the  part  of  five  boys,  will  no  doubt  be 
handed  down  to  our  grandchildren,  written  by  the 
most  eminent  historians,  but  it  seems  as  though  those 
of  us  who  cumber  the  earth  at  the  present  day,  ought 
to  know  the  particulars,  so  "  The  Sun 5'  tells  a  few  of 
the  incidents.  Those  who  have  seen  the  play  of 
Richard  the  Third,  will  remember  the  battle  on  Bos- 
worth  Field,  where  the  air  is  full  of  the  shrieks  of  the 
dead  and  groans  of  those  who  ought  to  be  killed.  The 
cavalry  charged  down  behind  the  scenes,  out  of  sight, 


AH   ARMY   ON    A    STRIKE,  89 

and  you  see  the  terrible  carnage  in  your  mind.  There 
is  the  smoke  of  battle  and  Richard  comes  out  of  his 
tent,  where  he  has  been  dreaming  of  his  mother-in-law, 
spits  on  his  hands,  pulls  up  his  boot-legs,  and  goes 
forth  to  battle,  behind  the  scenes,  rubs  some  red  paint 
on  himself  for  wounds,  and  comes  on  again  with  his 
back  up,  to  die  at  the  hands  of  another  duffer.  The 
two  armies  pass  across  the  stage  in  review  before  the 
fight,  or  at  least  one  army  passes  in  review,  changes 
his  blouse  for  one  of  another  color,  and  marches  across 
the  stage  as  the  other  army.  These  things  are  fresh 
in  the  memory  of  theater  goers,  as  it  has  not  been 
long  since  they  were  paralyzed  by  such  a  scene. 

Well,  last  week  Tom  Keene  played  Eichard  at  Mad 
ison,  and  the  stage  manager  enlisted  an  army  that  was 
calculated  to  strike  terror  to  the  hearts  of  all  tyrants. 
It  was  going  to  be  one  of  the  most  realistic  battle 
scenes  ever  presented  to  the  American  public.  The 
army  consisted  of  five  boys,  which  would  give  two 
boys  and  a  half  to  Richard,  and  the  same  number  to 
Richmond.  The  boys  were  corraled  behind  the  scenes, 
and  given  the  pine  spears  with  tin  weather-vanes  on 
them,  and  were  dressed  in  the  masquerade  ball  costume, 
and  before  the  curtain  went  up  on  the  first  act,  Richard 
reviewed  his  army,  as  it  sat  on  nail-kegs  and  soap 
boxes,  and  declared  it  to  be  superb.  The  play  went 
on,  and  the  curtain  was  about  to  rise  on  Bosworth 
Field,  where  the  great  battle  was  to  take  place  which 
would  decide  the  fate  of  nations.  Nervous  people  in 
the  audience  who  are  not  accustomed  to  carnage  had 
been  out  to  a  saloon  and  got  a  drink  to  nerve  them  for 
the  ordeal,  and  all  was  ready.  The  stage-manager 


90  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK, 

suddenly  appeared  in  Tom  Keenefe  dressing-room, 
where  that  warrior  was  putting  the  hump  on  his  back 
and  sharpening  his  sabre  on  the  stove-pipe,  and  the 
manager  was  pale.  Keene  said  "  Ho,  slave,"  and  the 
slave  said  "  What,  ho,"  and  then  he  told  Keene  the  army 
had  struck  for  two  shillings  apiece  extra,  or  they  would 
not  fight  the  battle  of  Bosworth  Field.  Accustomed 
as  Keene  was  to  scenes  of  blood,  mutiny,  beer  and 
cheese,  he  "  let  upon  his  sword  and  wiped  away  a  tear," 
then  fell  upon  his  manager  and  spoke  in  great  wrath. 
Finally  he  said  he  would  go  and  see  about  it,  so  he 
stalked  boldly  out  behind  the  scenes  up  to  a  printer's 
devil,  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader  in  the  mutiny, 
and  asked  him  if  the  army  wanted  the  earth.  The 
bell  boy,  who  composed  the  left  wing  of  the  army, 
and  the  boy  from  the  livery  stable,  who  acted  as  the 
right  wing,  got  behind  a  painted  iceberg,  to  cool  their 
fevered  brows,  but  the  printer's  devil  and  the  two  boys 
from  the  cigar  factory,  who  held  the  center  and  prac 
tically  controlled  the  movements  of  the  English  army, 
stood  their  ground.  The  printer's  devil  argued  with 
Keene  that  when  he  came  to  figure  it  up  he  could  see 
that  four  shillings  apiece  was  none  too  much  for  an 
army,  enlisted  for  the  war.  He  said  they  had  left 
their  plows  in  the  furrow,  and  with  no  bounty,  had 
left  their  families  to  suffer  while  they  fought,  and 
asked  him  to  think  of  the  condition  of  the  loved  ones 
at  home  if  they  should  fall  in  battle.  Keene  tried  to 
show  them  that  there  was  no  danger ;  that  the  battle 
was  a  mere  matter  of  form,  and  that  he  and  Eichmond 
would  do  all  the  fighting,  and  that  they  were  all  liable 
to  get  a  pension  when  the  war  was  over;  but  the 


AN    AEMY    ON    A    STRIKE.  91 

printer  said  a  bird  in  the  hand  beat  a  bobtail  flush,  and 
it  must  be  an  extra  two  shillings,  or  no  carnage. 
Keene  hesitated,  and  was  lost.  He  leaned  against  a 
fire  extinguisher,  and  told  them  they  were  doing  very 
wrong  in  promulgating  communistic  doctrines  in  a 
peaceful  city,  and  he  tried  to  compromise  with  them 
on  ten  cents  extra;  but  the  army  arose  as  one  man, 
indignation  in  every  bronzed  face,  and  said :  "  Not  by  a 
darn  sight,"  and  they  threw  down  their  cistern  poles 
that  had  i>een  sharpened  for  spears,  and  were  about  tc 
tear  off  the  British  uniform  and  go  forth  as  private 
citizens,  when  the  audience  outside  became  impatient, 
and  stamped  their  feet. 

Keene  saw  that  he  was  at  the  mercy  of  his  arnry, 
and  like  a  great  general  he  complied  with  the  demand, 
the  army,  made  bold  by  the  extra  pay,  marched  upon 
the  field  when  the  curtain  was  raised,  and  for  a  few 
moments  the  citizens  of  Madison  were  reminded  of  the 
days  of  the  late  war  when  the  city  was  full  of  recruits, 
getting  trusted  for  clothes  at  the  clothing  stores,  and 
making  the  welkin  ring,  so  they  had  to  tap  a  new  keg 
every  fifteen  minutes.  Bosworth  Field  was  never 
fought  so  before.  Besides  Richard  being  cut  all  to 
pieces,  one  of  the  cigarmakers  run  a  sharp  stick  into 
the  bell  boy,  and  the  printer's  devil  got  after  a  supe 
and  chased  him  away  down  behind  the  brick  livery 
stable,  while  the  bell  boy  treed  the  stage  manager  on 
a  step-ladder,  and  wanted  to  stab  Richard  with  the 
pole  after  he  was  dead,  while  Richmond  had  to  get 
behind  the  mother  of  the  Princes,  who  died  in  a  pre 
vious  act,  to  keep  from  being  run  through  by  the  left 
wing  of  the  army,  on  its  return  from  chasing  the  supe. 


92  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

The  army  was  paid  of!  and  mustered  out,  and  spent  its 
four  shillings  in  riotous  living.  Keene  says  when  it 
comes  to  raising  an  army  for  Bosworth  Field  he  would 
back  the  Madison  boys  against  the  world. 


TO  EEMOYE  PAINT, 

ONE  evening  last  week  there  was  a  tea-party  at  the 
residence  of  a  deacon,  and  after  supper  the  gen 
tlemen  went  to  the  smoking-room,  and  smoked  and 
told  stories  while  the  ladies  visited  and  exchanged 
pieces  of  silk  neckties  and  ribbons  for  making  silk  quilts. 
The  men  got  to  talking  about  the  changes  that  occur 
in  peoples'  lives  in  a  few  years,  and  each  had  some 
illustration  in  his  own  experience.  The  young  minis 
ter  had  been  a  quiet  listener,  and  smoked  his  cigar  ii>  a 
dreamy  sort  of  way,  and  when  they  had  all  had  an 
inning  telling  stories,  the  doctor  said  to  the  minister : 

"  Elder,  you  must  have  noticed,  as  much  as  anybody, 
the  changes  that  time  brings.  Can't  you  tell  us  some 
thing  funny  in  your  experience?" 

"  I  was  just  thinking,"  said  the  elder,  as  he  threw 
his  cigar  stub  in  the  cuspidore,  and  took  a  fresh  one  and 
lit  it,  "of  something  that  happened  to  me  last  winter 
in  Chicago,  and  I  will  tell  it  to  you  to  illustrate  how 
added  years  bring  intelligence  to  the  most  of  us, 
though  it  cannot  bring  forgetfulness,  and  to  illustrate 
also  how  a  man  may  be  reasonably  smart  in  knowl 
edge  of  the  world,  and  not  know  enough  to  keep  his 
mouth  shut  at  the  proper  time. 


TO   REMOVE   PAINT.  93 

"About  twenty-five  years  ago,  when  I  was  eight  years 
of  age,  my  people  lived  in  a  little  town*  and  I  was 
allowed  to  run  loose  about  the  neighborhood.  You 
wouldn't  believe  it  to  look  at  me  now,  but  I  was  a 
terror.  That  is,  I  was  full  of  fun,  oh,  so  full.  I  was 
up  to  all  sorts  of  mischief,  and  my  good  father  and 
mother  feared  that  I  would  never  amount  to  much, 
and  I  guess  they  fear  it  now,  but  that  is  neither  here 
nor  there.  Among  my  playmates  was  a  little  girl  of 
my  own  age,  a  bright  little  thing  with  blue  eyes  and 
brown  hair,  and  a  dimple  in  her  cheek.  If  I  was  a 
terror  she  was  a  terroress.  She  could  climb  a  fence 
quicker  than  I  could,  and  outrun  me,  and  wasn't  afraid 
of  anything,  and  we  were  the  best  friends  you  ever 
saw.  Her  name  was  Susan.  One  day  we  were  playing 
in  the  back  yard,  barefooted,  and  something  induced 
us  to  go  into  her  father's  barn.  In  looking  around  for 
something  to  amuse  us,  I  found  a  couple  of  pots  of 
paint  that  her  father  had  been  usir  *r  about  the  house. 
One  pot  was  red  and  the  other  green.  We  took  the 
brushes  and  painted  the  stall  in  the  barn  red,  and  one 
wheel  of  her  father's  wagOn  green,  and  finally  she  sug 
gested  that  we  paint  our  feet.  So  I  painted  one  of  her 
feet  green  and  the  other  red,  and  she  painted  mine, 
and  then  I  rolled  up  my  pants  and  she  painted  clear 
up  to  my  knees,  and  then  she  got  jealous  because  I  had 
more  style  than  she  did,  and  so  I  painted  her  legs  also, 
but  I  striped  them,  the  stripes  of  alternate  green  and 
red  running  around  like  a  barber  pole.  Being  a  girl, 
we  argued  that  it  was  right  that  she  should  be  more 
gaudy  than  me. 

"Well,  I  have  seen  beautiful  paintings  since,  and 


94  PECK'S  BOBS  BOOK. 

have  done  a  little  with  the  brush  since  arriving  at 
man's  estate,  but  I  have  never  seen  anything  that  gave 
me  the  satisfaction,  as  a  work  of  art,  that  the  work  of 
that  afternoon  in  the  studio  in  the  barn  did.  I  have 
seen  marble  sculpture  of  the  human  form  divine,  in  the 
galleries  of  the  old  and  new  world  since,  but  I  have 
never  seen  anything  that  could  hold  a  candle  to  the 
landscape  that  I  painted  on  Susan.  She  was  so  tickled 
that  she  had  to  go  right  in  the  house  and  show  the 
chromo  to  her  mother,  and  it  was  not  more  than  a 
minute  before  a  solitary  horseman,  about  eight  years  old, 
with  one  leg  green  and  the  other  red,  might  have  been 
seen  going  over  a  picket  fence  just  ahead  of  Susan's 
mother's  mop.  I  got  home  alive,  and  presented  a 
picture  to  my  mother  that  she  had  never  seen  in  her 
wildest  dreams.  Paint  everywhere.  And  she  warmed 
me,  and  Susan's  mother  across  the  street  warmed  her, 
and  us  two  young  artists  mingled  our  cries  across  the 
dusty  street.  I  deed  not  dwell  on  the  weeks  of  agony 
we  endured  in  having  that  paint  removed.  There  was 
some  sort  of  dryer  in  the  paint  that  made  it  dry  and 
shine,  and  it  seemed  to  penetrate  clear  to  the  bone.  At 
least  it  did  on  me,  and  I  suppose  Susan  was  made  of 
the  same  kind  of  clay.  Any  way,  all  the  time  we  lived 
in  that  town  after  that,  Susan  wore  stockings,  and  I 
judged  she  was  having  the  same  trouble  I  was,  being 
washed  every  night  in  benzine,  until  I  almost  wished 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  being  an  artist. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  the  circumstance,  in  a  busy 
life,  until  last  winter  I  was  down  to  Chicago  to  a  mis* 
eionary  convention.  There  were  delegates  from  aP 
over  the  country,  and  many  of  us  took  our  wives. 


TO   REMOVE    PAINT.  95 

One  evening,  after  the  business  of  the  convention  was 
over,  there  was  a  reception  at  the  residence  of  one  of 
the  directors  of  our  society,  and  I  was  introduced  to 
the  wife  of  a  brother  minister.  There  was  something 
about  her  eyes  that  seemed  sort  of  familiar,  and  finally 
she  told  me  who  she  was,  and  as  sure  as  I  am  smoking 
this  five-cent  cigar,  it  was  Susan.  Well,  we  talked 
about  old  times  and  old  friends  for  a  long  time,  and  of 
the  good  work  her  husband  was  doing  out  West,  but 
for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  keep  my  mind  off  of  that 
incident  of  the  paint.  Here  she  was  a  grown  woman ; 
the  glorious  eyes  she  had  in  youth  were  even  more 
beautiful,  and  her  smile  was  enough  to  break  up  a 
prayer-meeting ;  but  I  could  only  see  her  as  she  looked 
when  I  got  through  painting  her.  Becoming  familiar, 
I  finally  said :  '  By  the  way,  Susan,  I  would  like  to  ask 
you  one  question,'  and  she  said,  '  Certainly/  and  I 
allowed  my  eye  to  twinkle  a  little,  and  I  asked : 

'"  Susan,  tell  me,  did  you  ever  get  that  paint  off 
your 

"  '  Sir,'  said  she,  her  whole  frame  showing  the  great 
est  indignation,  and  just  then  a  bald-headed  preachei 
came  up,  and  she  turned  to  me  and  said :  *  This  is  my 
husband.  Husband,  this  is  an  old  friend  of  my  youth, 
one  who  knew  me  when  we  went  barefooted  together.' 

"  *  Ah,  indeed ;  glad  to  meet  you,'  said  the  brothei 
'My  wife  has  often  told  me  about  how  you  and  shv 
used  to  handle  the  paint-brush,  and  transform  nature, 
into  high  art,  and — eh,  she  is  gone.' 

I  looked  around  for  Susan,  and  she  had  taken  the  arm 
of  another  minister  and  gone  to  the  refreshment  room, 
and  before  I  could  see  her  again  she  had  gone  home, 


96  PECK'S  BOSS  BOOK. 

ana  I  never  saw  her  after.  But  for  several  nights  my 
dreams  were  filled  with  visions  of  hand-painted  articles, 
barns,  indignant  mothers  with  brooms,  benzine  and 
sweet  oil,  and  a  pair  of  the  loveliest  eyes  that  ever  were 
seen.  But  here  is  my  wife  with  her  things  on.  What, 
time  to  go  home?  "Well,  good-night;  but  for  good 
ness  sake,  gentlemen,  don't  say  that  I  told  you  about 
that  paint  business 


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